The Dark Lord's Daughter
by Like I'd Tell You
Summary: A young Ginny Weasley stumbles upon one of the dark lord's horcruxes while on vacation in Albania. A series of subsequent events leads to a revived Lord Voldemort kidnapping the child and raising her as his own daughter. A Dark GINNY fanfic. Extreme AU, eventual Harry/Ginny
1. Miss Ginevra Riddle

**Author's Note: ****I was inspired somewhat by numerous Dark Harry stories, except I couldn't help but think that maybe it was time someone decided to try out Dark Ginny instead. Hence this story. I hope y'all like it. **

******Disclaimer: Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, and any other characters that you may recognize belong entirely to J.K. Rowling. **

******...**

******Ch.1: Miss Ginevra Riddle**

The shiny necklace glimmered a beautiful silver and green, winking eagerly at a six-year-old Ginny from the forest floor. It was very, very pretty.

Her family had taken a vacation to Albania, and they were listening to a person talk about trees. She had gotten bored and wandered off, probably to some place she wasn't supposed to be. That was when she found the necklace.

Her mother had told her not to touch strange things, but Ginny had never seen anything so beautiful. Beautiful things cost too much. After a moment's hesitation, she picked up the pretty pendant.

A low hiss filled the air. Ginny turned to see a big snake looking at her. It appeared to have been there the whole time.

_ "My master is sick," _the snake said. _"Can you help him?" _

She dropped the necklace in surprise. The snake hissed something else, but she couldn't understand it.

"Er. That didn't make sense," she said, feeling foolish. Then the snake nudged the necklace. Ginny's eyes widened in realization. Of course. She picked it up.

_"My master?" _the snake pressed. _"He is very ill." _

_"My mother won't be very happy if I run off," _she said sadly. It was a pity. Ginny liked the snake. It had friendly eyes. _"I'm sorry." _

The snake shook its head in a funny snake kind of way. _"Your mother has six other children with her," _said the snake. _"My master has no one. Please. Help him. No one will notice if you go missing." _

It was right, she supposed. The only girl, the littlest one, not important enough to note. Besides, it sounded as though the snake's master was in big trouble. She could find her way back to her mother eventually.

Ginny nodded her head. _"Okay, Miss Snake," _she said. _"Tell me what I need to do." _

_"Put on the necklace," _said the snake.

She listened. The pendant landed with a thud against her chest. Warmth spread through her entire body, and a man appeared in front of her. He was as tall as the mountains, with a shock of dark hair, and eyes like black holes.

He was beautiful.

"You're an angel," she said. She reached out to touch him, but he moved out of the way.

"I'm only in your head," he said. His voice was music. "You can't touch me, but I do need your help. Please, come with me."

A warm fuzzy feeling settled in Ginny's stomach, and even though she didn't know the man, she felt so perfectly at ease that following the beautiful man was really her only option.

"Okay," she said. And she went with him, the necklace thudding against her chest as she walked. Someone started calling her name, but the man told her to run. So she ran.

They went a very long way and crawled through a lot of dirty places. Ginny should have been tired, but she wasn't. After a very, very long time, they arrived at a small shack. The necklace started burning, but she did not take it off.

The man asked for strange things, and she did them with an unnatural fervor. The snake, whom the man called Nagini, killed a goat. She took the goat's blood and put it in a pot. The man led her to a cabinet and told her to grab a vial of glowing silver blood. She put that in the pot, too.

After a while, she started becoming unsure of what she was doing. Putting a squirmy little bundle in the blood. Saying strange words. Then, even more numbly, lifting a knife. Slicing into her arm. Letting blood drip into the mixture.

Things started getting darker. The man wanted her to hurry. She said something to the necklace, and it opened. A deep-gray eye blinked at her through green smoke. It was the man's. As the smoke floated out, the eye grew darker. Then it disappeared.

Everything became cloudy. Words floated to her, spoken in a syrupy-smooth voice. "You have done well. Now sleep, my child."

And she did.

When Ginny opened her eyes, the man was sitting across from her. He reached out and touched her cheek. His hands were cold.

"Where's my daddy?" she asked in a small voice. He smiled.

"I am your father now. You are obedient, and I can feel very strong magic in you. Your future with me will be great. Do you understand?"

He was pretty, and smiling, and she still thought he looked like an angel.

Ginny nodded vigorously. The necklace was warm around her neck.

"Yes, I understand."

"Good," he said. "We will stay here for a few days while I regain my strength, and then I shall pick up where I left off."

That sounded good, and he seemed to know what he was doing, so Ginny nodded once more. Then he started talking to Nagini about things Ginny did not understand, so she went off to a corner and began playing with her necklace.

For a short time, Ginny worried that her parents would be looking for her, but then the man went to her and gave her a shiny blue potion.

"It will make you feel better," he said.

Ginny drank it and fell right asleep. She dreamt of the man.

When she woke up, the young child remembered nothing of her past.

xxx

Bella grabbed Ginny's arm and gripped hard enough to make the redheaded girl drop her wand. With a low grunt, Ginny elbowed Bella in the stomach, loosening the older woman's grasp and allowing herself to break free. In a series of moves almost too swift to be seen, she lowered herself to the ground, kicked Bella's feet out from beneath her, and easily grabbed the wand from her loosened grip.

Ginny stood above her aunt, wand held out, Slytherin pendant burning against her chest, cheeks red from exertion. "You lose," said Ginny. "Again."

With most, the fearsome Death Eater would have simply killed whomever dared beat her. It was different with Ginny. A smile found its way onto the dark-haired woman's face. There was little shame in getting beat by Lord Voldemort's daughter. Even the male Death Eaters cringed away from dueling her.

"That was a wonderful showing, my lady," said Bella as she pulled herself to her feet. She bowed her head in a show of respect. "As always."

Ginny did not acknowledge the statement. Bella's praise was always forthcoming and therefore meaningless. "I should not have let you get my wand away from me," she said coolly. "If I were going against someone stronger than myself, that mistake could have been fatal."

"No one would have thought to use that move if they were fighting you for the first time," Bella assured her. "I succeeded only because I know you so well. And remember, you would have had your knives if you were on a mission. Albus Dumbledore himself would have trouble making that mistake fatal."

Perhaps her words were true. In such a close-distance fight, wands and fists both lost out to any kind of sharp object. The mistake ate at Ginny anyway. She hated not being perfect.

"I suppose," Ginny said resignedly. She wiped the sweat off of her face with a thick black towel, then tossed it back onto the floor. "Again. I want to make sure that I can get it right this time."

A tangle of hair was falling from Bella's hastily made plait, her face was slick with sweat, and exhaustion was evident in her stance. That had already been their fourth fight, and Ginny knew her surrogate aunt was not put through a fraction of the physical training that she was. Would five be too many? It wouldn't be a challenge, that was for sure.

Yet, Ginny needed to perfect her moves. If Bella was tired, then so be it. It was her job to do whatever it took to ensure the happiness of Lord Voldemort's daughter.

"Very well then," said Bella. Not a single complaint. She knew bad things would happen if she dared to question Ginny's orders.

The two of them approached the middle of the mat. Ginny's bare feet felt sticky on the sweat-covered surface. They were just about to bow to each other when the door creaked open and the two women froze. Peter Pettigrew scampered into the room.

"Your father would like to speak to you," the rat said, his voice high and dreadfully squeaky.

Ginny sighed. Messages to speak with the dark lord were not uncommon. Most likely he wished to send her on a mission. That meant he desired her immediate presence. Without a word to Bella or Pettigrew, she brushed past him and out the door.

Her father was waiting in his library when she arrived. He looked like a classic painting with his sharp, Grecian features, skin the color of marble, and eyes that appeared to be thousands of miles deep. His tall figure seemed slightly too large for the leather chair in which he sat, and his too-long fingers tapped his knee rhythmically.

Lord Voldemort was clearly agitated, but a smile managed its way onto his lips when she entered the room. Ginny sauntered over to his chair and kissed him once on each cheek, then stepped back and bowed her head respectfully. "You needed me, Father?"

The pleased smirk that had crossed his face at Ginny's entrance disappeared as he began speaking in a low, business-like voice.

"I know of a location where the group of defected Death Eaters that Rabastan ratted out last month may be hiding. There should be only three. I trust that you will be able to handle them."

Without comment, Ginny looked into his eyes and threw herself into his mind. Only a few thoughts were left unguarded, but they were the ones she needed. It took seconds to pinpoint the location of the hideout and determine the less than considerable talents possessed by the three defected men. When she pulled back out, her lips were twisted into a smirk.

"I will not disappoint you," said Ginny smoothly. Pleasure flitted across Lord Voldemort's face.

"Very good, young one. Be safe."

Then Ginny turned on her heel and briskly made her way to her private quarters. With smooth, practiced movements, she changed into her usual dark robes, dragon-hide boots, and old, banged-up Death Eater mask. It was the same thing that all Death Eaters wore, so as not to draw unwanted attention to herself.

Deftly, she tucked Salazar Slytherin's pendant into her shirt, then unceremoniously turned and apparated away. She appeared in a maze of abandoned warehouses, straightened her robes, and used her highly attuned sense of direction to guide her towards the old building that she had seen in her father's mind.

It was not long before the air began buzzing with magic. If Ginny closed her eyes, she could feel the wards surrounding one particular area. There weren't many. An anti-apparation spell, one to keep out intruders, and another that was supposed to cause forgetfulness. If a weak-minded person were to wander too close, they would forget their reason for approaching the building. Suffice to say, the dark lord's daughter was not weak-minded.

Ginny did not have to think long about her course of action. The anti-apparation wards were stupid. Perhaps they kept enemies out, but they also would not allow for a quick escape, the exact reason she did not allow her father to place them around her room. With a small smirk, Ginny flicked her wand, sending a steady stream of flame at the building. The old, rotted wood caught fire instantly.

It was comical, how quickly the men came running out. One. Two. Three. None with wands raised, all of them humiliatingly unprepared. When they saw Ginny, they froze. Of course, to them, she was just a Death Eater. But when you had turned away from Lord Voldemort, seeing a Death Eater wasn't any less dangerous then seeing the Dark Lord's arson-inclined daughter.

"Avada Kedavra," Ginny said, taking out one man. The others tried to run. She sniped one of them down as he was fleeing, then managed to catch the last around the waist with a long rope of fire. He screamed in agony as she pulled him back towards her before finishing him off with the killing curse. All of the kills were clean and efficient as possible.

With one more glance at the three bodies, Ginevra Riddle spun on her heel and apparated away.

xxx

Albus Dumbledore sat in his old desk chair, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Over the course of the past year, a disturbing pattern of deaths had been forming. Eighteen Death Eaters, Order members, and prominent Muggleborns were found dead. Very few showed signs of struggle.

The most concerning constant was the never-failing presence of fire. Even if the victims hadn't been killed by fire, there was always evidence of flames nearby. Burnt buildings. Traces of ash. Non-lethal burns on their skin.

It was clear that the killer was working for Lord Voldemort. The few Death Eaters who were murdered were found to have recently displeased or betrayed their master, and the other sets of victims were all blatantly working against him.

What confused Albus was that the deaths all seemed linked to a single killer. The consistency of the kills and complete lack of evidence could only have been accomplished through a single murderer, and very few witches and wizards would have talent enough to kill so many powerful people so cleanly, especially considering that most of the bodies had been found in groups.

Several options had run through his head. Rabastan Lestrange was very talented, although not nearly as neat as the assassin proved to be. Lucius Malfoy would have had the efficiency and precision, but not the talent. Then there was Voldemort himself, whom was even more unlikely. The Dark Lord, as Albus knew, would not delegate himself to servant's work when he had his Death Eaters.

For a very long time, this question had stumped him.

Then Mad-Eye had given him a very, very interesting piece of evidence.

The old man held the strand of red hair in front of his face, studying it closely enough to make himself go cross-eyed. He had already put it through a DNA potion, so there was no doubt as to whom the hair belonged. He just did not know how to explain it, nor what he was going to tell Molly and Arthur.

"Perhaps if we find the girl soon," he murmured to himself, "she can still be saved."

But if she proved to be as evasive as she had been, Ginevra Molly Weasley was going to be quite difficult to catch.

…

Molly Weasley was scrambling to finish the apple tart she had been making for supper that evening when someone knocked loudly on the door. The red-haired witch quickly dusted the flour off her hands and looked towards the entryway with a sigh. It _was _Tuesday, and Luna Lovegood had no doubt come over with ballyroots or wallywarts or something of the sort.

With a small smile, as Molly did enjoy the Lovegood girl's company, the Weasley Matron bustled over to the door, passing an enchanted clock on her way there. Glancing over, as she always did, she was not surprised to see that Ginevra's hand was still fixed on 'Location Unknown'.

She quickly moved past the clock and opened the door, only to step back in surprise when she saw Albus standing in front of her.

"Albus," Molly said happily. "What a pleasant surprise. I…" She trailed off when she saw the look on his face. The usual twinkle in his bright blue eyes had faded completely, and the dark circles under his eyes suggested a sleepless night. Suddenly, her blood felt like ice. "W-what happened?"

"Everyone is safe," Albus assured her. "I simply have some… surprising news that may not be entirely wanted. Is Arthur home? He will want to hear this."

"Yes, he is," Molly said, just as her husband curiously poked his head out of the living room to see what was going on. Whatever he was going to say died in his throat when he saw the somber-looking Dumbledore standing in the doorway.

"Good," said Albus. "Now, I hate to invite myself in, but…"

"Oh, yes," said Molly hastily. She stepped back and waved an arm, gesturing for the Headmaster to enter. The old man followed her into the small living area and took a seat on a worn couch. "Can I get you any tea? Biscuits?"

"No, no. Thank you. What I have to discuss with you is far more important. In fact, I believe that it may come as a bit of a shock…"

"What is it, Albus?" prodded Arthur.

There was a moment of silence in which Albus appeared to be collecting his thoughts. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic baggy. Upon closer inspection, Molly realized that there was a scarlet hair in it.

"You are both familiar with Voldemort's assassin?" he asked. They nodded, even as their attention was completely focused on the hair, which so obviously belonged to a Weasley. "Only yesterday, the killer took out three recently defected Death Eaters. When investigating the crime scene, Alastor managed to procure this. At first I believed it belonged to Bill, as he had been working the case. Then I put it in a DNA potion."

"And?" prodded Molly breathlessly. She was still hovering awkwardly around Albus's chair, unsure of what to do with herself. That hair… it looked almost exactly like hers when she was younger, before red had begun to dull to gray. If she didn't know any better…

"The hair belongs to Ginevra Weasley. Molly, Arthur... Your daughter is alive."

Molly abruptly fainted.

**xxx**

**Well... this is my first ever fanfiction, so I'm super nervous about what everyone is going to think about it. I know it's a bit different, but I would love even just a little feedback, so I know whether or not this is worth continuing, or if something's confusing, or whatever... so please review, and I'll do another chapter if people seem to like it. _  
_**

**Thanks for reading. **


	2. In Enemy Hands

**Ch.2**

"They know."

"Pardon me?" asked Lord Voldemort when Lucius Malfoy burst into the Dark Lord's library, face twisted in a ferocious scowl. Ginny looked up from where she was sitting near her father's feet, perusing an advanced book on dark magic.

"Moody found a _hair_," Lucius went on. "The mad bastard found a single bloody hair in a crime-scene that was half-burnt and spanned at least a mile in diameter." When no one responded to his mad ranting, the Death Eater looked straight at Lord Voldemort and said, "I'm talking about your daughter. The Order found one of Miss Ginevra's hairs. Dumbledore tested it; they know it's hers. They know who she is."

There was a long moment of silence in which Ginny tried to determine what the big deal was, and then her father said in a low, menacing voice, "Lucius, it would do you well to use more caution when you choose the mode of presenting your next bit of news. Or have we forgotten the importance of discretion?"

Lucius's eyes fell to Ginny, and he paled visibly.

"I… I apologize, My Lord, but the news… the bug we planted at the Burrow… I was not thinking clearly, but n-nothing concerning was said, I do hope-"

"You were _lucky_," said Voldemort, "that you did not elaborate further." He frowned deeply, and though he hid his reaction well, Ginny could see very easily that something in Lucius's message had upset her father greatly. Reaching out to touch him in the way that only she was allowed, Ginny rested a hand on her father's and leaned her head back into his lap.

"It is okay, Father. A single hair will not bring them any closer to catching me. You must realize this."

Her father did not respond, and, after a very long, tense moment, he clasped his hands together and said to Lucius, "Leave me now. I must speak with my daughter alone."

Malfoy rushed from the room immediately, and the Dark Lord gently stroked Ginny's fiery hair with a fatherly tenderness of which many of his Death Eaters would not think him capable. To show such emotion was obviously a sign of worry, and Ginny craned her neck so that she could see his face more clearly.

"Father, there is more to this than I know. You're keeping something from me."

"Dear Ginevra, you must have learned long ago that you cannot trust me," said Lord Voldemort. Ginny shut her book and shifted so that she was facing her father. She sensed that this was going to be an important conversation, and she wished to see his face while having it.

"I fully realize that you withhold information from me constantly," Ginny said coolly. "It is necessary. I'm not upset; I merely wish to know what is important enough to have you fretting over a seemingly menial piece of news."

Voldemort smiled, and Ginny could see pride in his eyes.

He may not have loved her- she knew very well that he was unable- but he cared for her as much as his blackened heart would allow, and to Ginny, that had always been enough.

"A very diplomatic answer. Let us see how truthful you are." Voldemort steepled his fingers and peered at Ginny for a long moment before he said, "I am not your true father."

Ginny hardly blinked. The knowledge hit her hard in the gut, but she did not allow herself to react. Rationally, she knew she should not be surprised. Horcruxes had long been thought to render wizards sterile, and her father had never once mentioned a mother to her, nor shown any interest in any woman at all. It made sense then, that she was not his blood-daughter.

Despite the logic of it, Ginny still felt strangely hollow at the news. It was a ridiculous and irrational feeling, so she forced herself to bite it back and put on a smile.

"I am hardly concerned with whether or not you are my father by blood; you are in all other matters, Father."

He smiled.

"And you are more a daughter to me than any I could have sired myself," said Voldemort. "Though I'm sure you realize that is not the reason I am concerned about the discovery of the hair."

"Go on, then."

"When you were a very young child, you stumbled upon one of my Horcruxes in the forests of Albania. I believe that you were on a trip with your family, though I am not entirely positive. At the time, I was… less than human."

"This was before your resurrection."

"Yes," said Voldemort. "As it is, Nagini had been guarding that particular artifact-" His eyes went to her neck, and Ginny instinctively reached for the Slytherin pendant, "-and, upon allowing you to find it, convinced you to pick it up. My spirit possessed you for just long enough so that, together, we were able to perform the ritual that allowed me rebirth.

"I will admit that I was charmed by you. Such a strong, faithful young witch, with so much potential… I could not leave you."

Ginny pursed her lips against a smile. She had been more useful to the Dark Lord than she had ever imagined, and it was almost more gratifying to know that she earned her father's good opinion by resurrecting him rather than being born into it by chance.

"I assume you then erased my memories and took me away to raise yourself.

"Very good," said Voldemort. "I did exactly that, and it is a move that has paid off more strongly than I could ever have imagined."

"But if I was missing instead of dead… I would still be in the Ministry databases," said Ginny slowly. "Lucius said they tested the hair. That means they know who I really am."

"And so intelligent," said the Dark Lord. "Yes. The Order now knows exactly who you are, and unfortunately for all of us, your true identity hits rather close to home with all of them. I'm sure you've heard of the Weasley family?"

So that was her true family. She was not exceptionally happy to learn her real identity, but it mattered little. Voldemort had known and not treated her any differently, and if he did not care, she had no right to complain. Her concern was in the Weasley's importance among the Order. There were a total of… eight, was it?... members of the immediate family, and more cousins and whatnots than she could count, and each and every one of them was involved with the organization.

Ginny knew enough of the family and the Order members with whom they were close to realize that everything in their power would be done to restore her to what those fools would consider her rightful home.

"You will not allow me out to fight anymore," Ginny said icily.

"I do not wish for you to get hurt."

"Do you really believe they will hurt me?"

There was a long silence.

Finally, Voldemort said, "No. I do not think so. The Weasleys are soft, and they would not think you truly loyal to me. The rest of the Order may not be so accepting of you, but I am sure they would not go against the Weasleys' wishes."

"So what is the harm? If they catch me, I'll be imprisoned until you are able to rescue me. This is hardly a reason to keep me from my art, Father, and I swear that I will go out myself if you attempt to keep me inside-"

"You will do no such thing. The Order will be looking for you, and I am sure that dozens of them will be waiting to jump the moment you set foot out of this manor. You are to stay here and continue training until I tell you otherwise, and, if you feel you need to disobey that command, then I will punish you so thoroughly that you will be _physically unable _to defy me again. Are we clear?"

Ginny grit her teeth against a biting retort. Her father was lying. He'd never tortured her, had never raised his wand against her. Yes, his servants had done so as part of her training- Lucius Malfoy got a disgusting glee out of Crucioing her, actually- but never once had her father harmed her himself. If she were caught, he would lock her away, yell, scream, perhaps take his anger out on another Death Eater, but he would never hurt her.

She knew it was unintelligent, but Ginny trusted him too much to believe his words. She was, however, just smart enough to know that disobeying would be foolish. Her father was not going to budge on this, and anything else she had to say would only get her in more trouble. With clenched fists, Ginny bowed her head and said, "Very well, Father. If you wish to lock away your only competent Death Eater, I shall allow you to do so. Good day."

Then she turned on a heel and strode out of the room, her boots clicking loudly on the stone floor.

xxx

Bill Weasley wanted to burst out laughing.

It wasn't his fault. The situation was so ridiculously funny that he couldn't help it. Hell, the twins _were _laughing, no matter how inappropriate it was, so he didn't feel nearly as bad for his ill-timed bout of giddiness.

"You're kidding, right?" he asked.

He had to.

Bill had been shocked when he first learned the identity of Voldemort's assassin. Then he'd been horrified. Finally, the unmistakable urge to kill all of Voldemort's men and bring his baby sister home had taken over, and he, along with every other one of the Weasleys- except Percy, the great git- had pressed the Order to take immediate action.

Convincing them to do so hadn't been difficult. They wanted to rid the world of Voldemort's assassin as much as any of the Weasleys. It was making the case to leave Ginny alive that was the problem. There were a lot of quiet suggestions that killing her would be easier, and kind voices saying their Ginny was long dead anyway, and, of course, Moody voicing that he'd love to burn her alive and see how she liked it.

None of the Weasleys had listened to any of it.

Bill wanted Ginny back. It was as simple as that. If she was evil, he'd work with her, be as kind to her as possible, and care for her until she could learn to be a good person again. He was sure his family would do the exact same thing.

Dumbledore was, quite thankfully, very much against any unnecessary killing. After several long hours of discussion, he finally declared that Ginny Weasley was to be brought in alive. They would charm the hell out of one of the many rooms at Grimmauld place, rigging it up until it made breaking out of Azkaban look like child's play, and allow Ginny to live there as she acclimated to a kind and loving environment- something with which she surely had no experience.

Of course, once that decision had been made- to the protests of much of the room- the Order was asked to brainstorm possible methods of getting Ginny back to Headquarters.

There were proposed raids, complicated traps, decoys, even situations that involved prominent Order members acting as bait.

Then Hermione spoke and, unsurprisingly, made them all look like idiots.

"We could use Dobby," she said. "House elves aren't affected by anti-apparation wards, so he could sneak into her room in the middle of the night, grab her, and apparate her back here."

And that's where the urge to laugh came from.

It was unbelievably simple. Voldemort's manor was filled with Death Eater guards, and rigged with more dangerous security hexes than Bill could count- he'd heard enough about the place from Snape to know that much- and yet, according to Hermione, a bloody house elf would be able to pop in, kidnap one of the most powerful witches in the building, and pop out with no trouble at all.

It was too good to be true, but the look on Voldemort's face should they pull off something like that, well… it was definitely laugh-worthy.

Hence Bill's, "You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I be kidding?" asked Hermione. "I don't see any problem with the idea. Professor Snape knows the layout of the house, so he could show Dobby where she sleeps, and there's absolutely no reason that everything wouldn't go smoothly after that. He'd just have to grab her and apparate."

Everyone stared, and the twins quit laughing when they realized that she was serious.

"That's actually… kind of smart," said Bill.

"I say go for it," Ron said. "It's better than anything else we've suggested."

Everyone seemed to agree. Dumbledore smiled and volunteered to begin charming what was to be Miss Ginevra's room, and Dobby was called and Snape commissioned to explain the situation to the house elf.

It was too simple, too easy.

The plan would never work.

Except Bill was well aware that sometimes simple was better, and at that moment, simple was just about perfect.

xxx

Ginny was angry.

She was beyond angry.

She was murderous.

The candles in Riddle Manor's corridors flared up as she swept through the halls after she stomped out of the library. Doors shuttered and any loose objects flew as if a wind were blowing through as she tore a path through the manor and towards her room. She was angry, and the piece of her father's soul in her necklace only amplified that anger with the magic it sent thrumming through her veins.

Adopted. The first six years of her life had been a _lie_. She'd had parents and siblings and a family, and though she loved her father, though she knew that she did belong where she was, she would have liked to _know_. The more she separated herself from her father and his prying eyes, the more she allowed herself to _feel_, and the more that everything he said sunk in, the more strongly she felt.

He lied to her all the time, but this… it was entirely different. Illogical as it was, being related to the greatest wizard in history had made her feel strong, more powerful, and now she felt decidedly average. It wasn't great blood that ran through her veins. It was Weasley blood. She was strong because of ridiculous amounts of training, not because she was special. And she might as well tear the Slytherin pendant off her neck, because she was no true Slytherin.

Except that was ridiculous, because Voldemort very clearly did care for her, and she was as close to a daughter as she suspected he would ever get. So she didn't have to worry about that. He'd said so himself. He cared for her more than any real child he could possibly have.

That wasn't why she was truly upset.

She was upset because of _his _reaction to the news that the Weasleys were aware of her identity.

Perhaps she'd expect him to send a few Death Eaters with her on assignments, or maybe even take a short hiatus to let the Order cool down, but for him to ban her from her missions altogether… that was taking away everything she was. Why would she want to spend all her time training if she wasn't going to fight? It was ridiculous.

Maybe she'd talk to him tomorrow. Let him cool down and assess the situation. Her father had a temper- as if that wasn't the understatement of the century- and he probably hadn't been thinking clearly when he indefinitely suspended her from her missions. He'd see sense soon enough. Ginny didn't even care if he kept her on a short leash for a while. The freedom of the last year or so had been nice, but that didn't mean she wouldn't accept more menial tasks. Hell, she'd go raiding with his lowest ranking followers if he wished.

She just wanted to be doing _something_, to legitimately help her father's cause and not sit around like a useless plaything. Her father had been building up his numbers and regaining the strength that'd left him before he was reborn- before she, apparently, had resurrected him- and they all knew the time for a final, decisive battle between he and Harry Potter was drawing near. Every little victory was so important… it was downright stupid of Voldemort to consign his most powerful weapon to bloody house arrest.

Angrily, Ginny threw open the door to her chambers and threw off the casual robes she'd been wearing, instead changing into a pair of Muggle shorts and a tank top. She needed to burn off steam, and a run sounded like a beautiful way to do so. It was late- past midnight, she guessed by the position of the full moon shining outside her window- but that hardly mattered. She wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

Ginny tucked her wand into her waistband and bent over to dig out a pair of running shoes from underneath her bed when a crack sounded in her room. The sound wasn't right for a human apparition, so she didn't turn to acknowledge it. Someone had sent a house elf.

"I is sorry, Miss Ginny, but this is for the miss's own good."

Ginny whirled around at the strange words, and she had just enough time to register that the elf didn't belong to her or her father before the creature grabbed her arm with a long-fingered hand and apparated them away.

As soon as the effects of the apparation faded, Ginny drew her wand and prepared to fire. Being kidnapped by a house elf obviously wasn't a good thing, and she expected to be met with some type of immediate resistance.

She was right. The body-bind spell came at her before her feet were entirely set, but she dropped to the ground immediately, allowing the spell to fire inches above her hear, and then rolling out of the way of two jinxes from behind. She then propelled herself back onto her feet and flicked her wand casually, sending a knock-back hex in the direction of one of the curses.

Another two hexes were thrown her way, but a quick shielding charm took care of them, and then, using the second-long reprieve the deflecting spells gave her, she jumped back against the nearest wall and pressed herself against the smooth wood so that no one could attack her from behind.

Within moments, Ginny had deduced that she was in a dank, darkly-colored room with a four-poster bed and a small shelf of books. One man lay in heap against the far wall- her hex must've knocked him against the hard stone- but two others were still there. One was tall and ruggedly good-looking with shaggy black hair, and the other was a gangly, bearded old wizard that could be none other than Albus Dumbledore himself.

Ginny smiled slightly.

She was more important than she'd thought.

Without even thinking about it, she flicked her wand and cried, "Fiendfyre."

The dark magic fire shot out of her wand instantly, taking the form of a galloping horse and heading straight for the two wizards across from her. She knew Dumbledore would repel the spell and released it just as he was bringing up a shielding charm, rolled a few feet to the left for a better angle, and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!" at the man next to him.

He ducked the curse by inches.

"We don't have to do this," Dumbledore said. "We want to help you."

"Then stay still so I can kill you," Ginny said lowly. Before she wasted any more time on useless chitchat, she waved her wand once more, firing an entrail-expelling curse, a knee-reversing hex, and a blasting curse at the men in quick succession. Dumbledore evaded all of them neatly, but the blasting curse managed to knick the other man in the leg, and Ginny used the opportunity to flick her wand and say, "Sectumsempra!"

It hit the man dead on, and knowing that he was out of the fight if not soon to be dead, Ginny turned back to Dumbledore and shouted, "Incendio!"

Fire blasted out of her wand and engulfed him, but Ginny cursed as soon as she could feel her own energy draining. She withdrew the spell as soon as she could and cast a hasty 'protego' just as Dumbledore released her own fire back at her.

"Really, this is unnecessary, Miss Ginevra. We'd been hoping to avoid something like this…"

"Should've had the house elf knock me out with a frying pan," Ginny retorted. Dumbledore tried to stun her, but she dodged it, spun, and shouted, "Crucio!"

He blocked it, and then something changed about his demeanor. Whereas before he'd simply been attempting to block her spells and stay out of the way, his eyes hardened and he took a step forward, launching an 'expelliarmus' right at her face. Ginny barely dodged it, and then he fired several more spells right in a row, none of them deadly but all of them undoubtedly powerful.

Ginny spun and dodged, sheer speed the only thing keeping her from getting hit. There was no time for any retaliation; Dumbledore was much too quick. Each and every one of his spells was fired one after the other, and after only a minute of trying to evade them, Ginny was panting and exhausted.

She knew she was outmatched. Desperately she attempted to apparate away, but there was an anti-apparation jinx on the room. With a low curse, Ginny used a half-second stall in the fighting to wave her hand and attempt to start a fire behind the old man, but it didn't catch. They'd charmed the room against burning.

Dumbledore used the instant it took her to make the movement to fire yet another spell, and Ginny flattened herself against the floor to avoid it. Using the only plan she could think of, she jumped as far as she could to avoid his next hex and landed in a roll, coming up right beside the man she'd knocked unconscious initially. Just as Dumbledore moved to cast his next spell, she ducked underneath of him and held him up as a human shield, making sure his body was entirely between her and the older wizard.

He pulled up short for an instant, and Ginny used that single moment to move her wand around the unconscious man's body and yell, "Avada Kedavra!"

Dumbledore stepped out of the way, and, a second later, a curse came at her out of nowhere and drilled her in the side. Ginny went flying across the room, out from behind the man she'd been using as a shield, and slammed into the nearest wall. Dumbledore hit her with a binding spell moments later, and, furious, Ginny rolled her eyes back just far enough to see that the man who she'd nailed with the sectumsempra curse had forced himself into a sitting position and was holding his wand with a shaking hand. He was pale as death and covered in blood.

Ginny mentally cursed herself. She hadn't killed him- the killing curse took more focus than was convenient in the middle of a duel- and it cost her dearly.

Before Dumbledore so much as looked at Ginny, he walked over to the bleeding man and murmured the appropriate counter-curse. He then waved his wand at the man whom Ginny had thrown into a wall and said, "Rennervate."

The man, a tall, undeniably attractive redhead- though the hair led Ginny to suppose he was her brother, all but cancelling out the notion that he was good-looking- groaned before he sat up and groggily asked, "Wha' happened?"

"We underestimated the enemy," said Dumbledore simply. He extended a hand to help the man stand, then inclined his head towards their blood-covered companion and said, "She hit Sirius with a sectumsempra. I've applied the counter-curse, but he'll still need blood replenishing potion. If you would, Bill-"

The man- Bill- turned to look at Ginny for a long moment with something unreadable in his eyes, but then he turned back to face Dumbledore and nodded. "Yeah. I got him."

Ginny watched awkwardly from her position on the floor as Bill carted Sirius- Sirius Black, she supposed- off, and Dumbledore took several ambling steps towards her. Without a word, he plucked her wand from her hands and pocketed it. Then he waved his wand so that she could speak, but kept the rest of her body frozen.

"One on three against a sixteen-year-old girl?" Ginny hissed. She'd bit her tongue when she'd rammed into the wall, and she spat the blood at Dumbledore's feet. "And I thought you were supposed to be the moral ones."

"We never fired a single spell with the intent to do you harm," said Dumbledore gently. "As I said before, we're only trying to help you."

"You've taken me away from my family, my _real _family," Ginny spat nastily. "All you're doing right now is helping yourselves. My father-"

Then she stopped.

She'd insisted upon not having anti-apparation wards around her room. Her father knew very well that she could have left had she wanted to, and after what she'd said…

"Oh, Merlin. He's going to think I've abandoned him," Ginny whispered. She immediately began struggling against the spell that was holding her, frustration building when she couldn't move anything below her neck. Her father trusted her more than anything, and if he thought she'd willingly disobeyed his orders, he was going to be angry and hurt, and… and she hated to even think of that. "I need to go home!" Ginny screamed. She attempted one more useless thrash, and shouted, "Let me go!"

"We'll keep you safe, Miss Ginevra," said Dumbledore gently. "Lord Voldemort will not hurt you for leaving."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Ginny hissed. "He would never hurt me."

She wanted to yell that Voldemort cared for her, that he was going to be worried and feeling betrayed, and probably furious beyond belief as well, but she couldn't say any of it. That would only show them the true esteem in which Voldemort held her, and they'd use it against him. She refused to allow that to happen.

Dumbledore obviously didn't believe her claim about Voldemort not harming her, but he said nothing of it. Instead, he gently said, "Your father will learn the specifics of your kidnapping soon enough. Do not concern yourself over that." She wanted to ask how, but then she remembered her father's double-agent. Snape. One of those greasy outsiders that neither side really trusted. He'd deliver news of the kidnapping to her father, and then Voldemort would know the truth.

At least he wouldn't think her a traitor.

"Okay. So what happens next? You try to torture my father's secrets out of me? Because I won't say a word." She raised her chin proudly. "You'll save yourself the mess if you just kill me outright."

Dumbledore chucked lightly, and Ginny scowled at him.

"We want nothing out of you, Ginevra. Your family would not allow you to be used for information even if the Order were inclined to do so. You were brought here because the Weasleys still care for you. They want their daughter back."

"Am I supposed to fall for that?" asked Ginny. She was still trying to break out of the spell Dumbledore had put on her, but it was impossible and her face was going red from the effort.

"No, but we hope you will eventually come to accept it."

"And I hope," said Ginny darkly, "you idiots will eventually come to accept that I don't belong here. My home is elsewhere and it always has been." She looked Dumbledore straight in the eye. "I was given a memory potion after I resurrected my father. I remember _nothing _about any of the Weasleys. To me, they are filthy blood traitors fighting on the wrong side of a rapidly building war." Her eyes narrowed, and her words were cold and harsh when she spat out her last sentences. "Ginny Weasley died ten years ago. I have been Ginevra Riddle ever since that day in Albania, and it would do you all good to remember that."

"I can only pray that you will eventually change your mind. Now, I'm afraid I have to go tend to Sirius and Bill, but I will return with visitors tomorrow morning. I must warn you that any fires you attempt to start magically or otherwise will not catch on anything in this room. No furniture can be uprooted from its place, either, so attempting to send things flying at me will accomplish nothing. The four foot space in front of the door is also charmed so that you cannot step near it; you will not be able to make a run for it when anyone enters or exits the room, nor will it allow you to send spells into the area."

Before Ginny could say anything else, he stepped away from her, towards the door, and lifted his binding spell. Ginny jumped to her feet instantly and took up a fighting stance. She was sore, and it felt like she'd sprained her wrist when Sirius threw her against the wall, but she still took a moment to size Dumbledore up. He let her, holding his wand out in front of him but not casting anymore spells.

Finally, Ginny pursed her lips and relaxed her stance. She wouldn't be able to get anywhere near him when he had his wand and she didn't, and even if they were equally matched, he was clearly beyond her ability to beat in a fight. Maybe if she had her knives with her, she would have a chance to surprise him, but she was entirely unarmed.

"Go then," Ginny said, waving the old codger out of the room. "I'm not an idiot, and attacking you now would be suicidal."

Dumbledore nodded and backed out of the room. He never turned his back on her once, and despite seeming so confident in the charm that was to keep her away from the door, Ginny heard the lock click behind him, and then felt a rush of magic that no doubt resulted from dozens of security charms taking effect.

It was rather flattering to be seen as such a potent threat.

It was also annoying. She mulled over the situation for a long while, but there was no way she was going to be able to escape. Not yet. Perhaps if she gave the situation some time, she would be able to find a hole in their security, or maybe her father would rescue her by then. Until then, she would simply have to wait it out and duck any of their attempts to get information out of her in the meantime.

Frustrated, Ginny slammed a foot onto the floor and let out a furious howl before she stalked over to the bed in the middle of the room and threw herself down onto the soft mattress.

She was achy and tired- it was extremely late by that point- and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but sleeping in the middle of enemy territory was foolish.

Ginny was determined not to give the Order the satisfaction of catching her in such a vulnerable state. Not until she absolutely couldn't help it.

XXX

**Author's Note-**

**Thank you so much for the great feedback! I appreciate the reviews so much, and I'm glad you like the story. I hope this chapter goes over just as well as the last, and I can't wait to hear what you all think of it.**


	3. A Chat with a Pyromaniac

**Ch.3**

"We should just put her down and be done with it!" Moody cried. Much of the Order was crowded around Sirius's bed, and though extremely weak and exhausted, the animagus wasn't about to complain. The situation _was _something that needed to be talked about.

"Oh, I'm sure the poor dear was just frightened, is all," Molly tried weakly. Sirius barked out a raspy laugh at that.

"She was throwing deadly hexes at us without a second thought; it was pure luck we aren't all dead, Molly," said Sirius. "I had a killing curse miss me by inches. Not to mention that the little bitch used Bill's unconscious body as a human shield when Albus finally started to get the upper hand on her."

"She did _what_?" Molly asked breathlessly.

"Held him right up in front of her. If Albus had reacted a second later, he would've blasted Bill. As it is, she had him with that plan. Say I'd passed out a moment sooner… I don't think Albus could've taken her, not with having to fire around Bill like he would've."

Molly looked about ready to faint, and Bill quickly came up and put an arm around his mother's shoulders.

"We're all okay, Mum. Nothing to worry about now. Ginny's unarmed, and Dumbledore is talking to her. The situation is our fault, anyway. We underestimated her badly; if we'd been thinking, we would have had Dobby knock her out before he brought her back. We foolishly expected her to be asleep."

"Oh, you couldn't have known, Dear. And you said she came out of an unexpected apparation ready to fire? No, there's no way you could have predicted that. But at least you're okay now."

"Luckily," said Bill. He shook his head, and Sirius knew how he felt. Both of them were in awe. The girl hadn't been legendarily powerful- beyond her exemplary use of fiendfyre and incendio, her curses hadn't had the same 'bang' as Dumbledore's. It was _her _that was so impressive. Small and quick and nearly impossible to touch. Her reaction times had been ridiculous, and the moves to get away from their spells equally so. The array of curses she knew and the speed and efficiency with which she used them were also far beyond the ability of almost any adult wizard he knew, and he imagined she could outduel any of them one-on-one, save for Dumbledore.

It was as fascinating as it was terrifying. To be able to perform so many advanced spells at such a young age, and to be able to move like that, as if she were dancing rather than dueling… Sirius could hardly fathom how much training she'd been put through.

"I still think she's too dangerous to be left alive," Moody insisted. "She was trying to kill them… using Unforgivables and dark magic. Keeping her smack dab in the middle of Headquarters is foolish, and now You-Know-Who's going to be looking for her-"

The sound of Sirius's bedroom door opening cut him off, and everyone fell silent as Albus Dumbledore entered the room. His long hair was matted and his face still red from the exertion of his fight. He looked drained and tired, something that none of them were used to seeing.

"I just finished speaking with Miss Weasley," said Dumbledore. He frowned. "Though I suppose she might find it preferable if I say Miss Riddle."

Everyone in the room froze rather comically, and Sirius, sensing that an awkward silence was about to ensure, bluntly blurted, "_WHAT!?" _

"She views him as her father," said Dumbledore slowly, using a voice that one often saved for calming scared children. "He gave her a memory potion; the first six years of her life are gone, and she simply doesn't care. I think Ginevra has grown to love Lord Voldemort in a strange way… when I first allowed her to speak, she wasn't scared or angry; she was terrified that he would think she betrayed him."

Molly Weasley let out a sob, and Sirius could see Arthur's hands shaking. Bill's face had gone pale white, and both of the twins looked like they were about to faint. Moody was positively murderous, and Tonks was on the verge of tears. Sirius himself had no idea what to think. The words 'daughter' and 'Voldemort' didn't go together. They'd all expected that he'd hold Ginny in high esteem, that he thought of her as something of a special warrior to him, but to know that he'd raised her as his own daughter… that was beyond anything they'd ever imagined.

"I do not know if it is true or not," Dumbledore went on, "but I suspect he may genuinely be fond of the girl. I told her that we would not let Voldemort harm her for leaving him, and she treated the notion like it was ridiculous. She was willing to die to keep his secrets, and when I told her that the Weasleys only wanted their daughter back, she made it clear in no uncertain terms that her home was elsewhere, and that the Weasleys' daughter had died a long time ago."

Obvious shock ran throughout the entire room. The entire Weasley family was understandably devastated, but looking at it from an outsider's view, Sirius was able to fully appreciate what Dumbledore just said.

Voldemort didn't hurt her, at least if the girl was telling the truth. She saw his manor as home, called herself Ginevra Riddle. If those things were true, perhaps Moody was right. She wasn't just loyal to Voldemort- she loved him like a father- and in that case, Sirius genuinely couldn't imagine her turning back on him for a family she'd seen as the enemy her entire life.

For the first time, it occurred to him that the girl they attempted to rescue may have already been long dead.

"Did she say anything else?" Tonks finally pressed shakily.

"Nothing of any importance. I did manage to get across that we had no desire to hurt her, but I do not think she believed me; however, with time, hopefully she will realize that we truly do care for her, and will begin to care about us as well."

Sirius snorted. The old codger had to be kidding. If the girl really was Voldemort's daughter, they'd probably die attempting to 'change' her. Either she'd kill them all, or old snaky himself would raid the place, but Sirius had no doubt that, some way or another, continuing on with their original plan would blow up in their faces. Voldemort wasn't Ginny's master- he was her father- and she had no recollections of life with the Weasleys that might make her more willing to see things from a different perspective. Sirius hadn't been all that confident with the idea of rescuing her in the first place, but now… now trying to do so seemed absolutely suicidal.

"You can't be saying that we're going to keep her here," said Sirius. He gestured to himself, to the long cuts along his exposed chest. He was weak and pale, and though the counter-curse had done its job, he felt like he'd been run over by the Knight Bus. "Look at what she's already done. I wanted to save the kid as much as anyone else, but I really don't think there's a kid left to be saved."

"But we can't-" started Fred.

"-just kill her," finished George.

"She's our _sister_," they said together.

"She's _my_ daughter," Molly added. "And nothing is going to happen to that girl under my watch. Is this understood?"

Sirius bit his tongue, and he could see Moody and several of the others doing the same thing. Even Bill looked skeptical. He'd seen the girl fight- he knew just how dangerous she was. How dangerous, and how soulless. She hadn't blinked when she tried to kill them, hadn't hesitated before throwing out the most painful, deadly spells she knew. A girl like that with a daughter's loyalty towards the darkest wizard in history was a menace.

"It is," Dumbledore stressed. "And if anyone disagrees, it would do them well to leave this house." He looked at Sirius. "Although I suppose I cannot ask that of you. You will, however, not be allowed to harm the girl."

"Just answer this one question for me," said Sirius.

"And that would be?" asked Dumbledore.

He stared at his former Head of House.

"What do you plan to tell Harry when we send for him next week? That the daughter of the bloke who murdered his parents is hanging out in his godfather's house? He doesn't even know that we've figured out who Voldemort's assassin is. What's he going to think when he stumbles into _this_?"

The question silenced everyone.

"We'll think of something," Dumbledore said. "But we can't-"

"-tell Harry," spat Sirius. "Yes, I know. Because the boy who saves all our arses on a consistent basis isn't mature enough to handle it. I understand _perfectly_."

"Sirius-"

"I won't say anything," Sirius cut in. "I totally agree. It'll be much better to wait and tell Harry that he'll be sharing a house with Satan's daughter when he hears her screaming and asks what kind of wild animal we're keeping in the attic."

Dumbledore was evidently in no mood to acknowledge his sarcasm because he said with a false cheer, "I'm glad you see sense. Now, I believe it best that all of you get some rest. I wish to introduce Ginny to her parents in the morning, and we all must be prepared."

"Do you really think that's a good idea, Albus?" Moody challenged gruffly. "Telling a girl who was just ripped away from her 'father' that two people she doesn't know are her _parents_? A bloody idiot move that is, and someone who's already playing a fool's game is in no position to make idiot moves."

"What would you suggest I do?"

Moody, showing a kind of thoughtfulness that often wasn't attributed to him, said, "I don't bloody know. Send Bill in, or maybe the twins… not Ron- the pillock would get himself killed in seconds- but someone that you obviously aren't trying to force into You-Know-Who's place in her twisted little heart."

"You know," said Tonks, "that actually makes sense."

"But my daughter-" Molly protested.

"Is dead," grunted Moody. "The bitch that killed her won't give a shit."

"Alastor-"

"Don't you dare try telling me this isn't true," said Moody. He grabbed his flask and took a swig of whatever he had in there, then began hobbling out of the room. "Now I'm done with this. Most of you can't see the situation for what it is, and the only one who truly can is lying in bed, half dead."

Then he left, shutting the door harshly behind him.

"He's right," Sirius said. "You didn't see her. I did, and that was no Weasley."

"We have to try," said Molly. "Can't you understand that Sirius? Aren't you the one who's always thought with your heart above your head?"

"Well, my heart is too bloody terrified to think. A sixteen-year-old girl just tried to cut it out," Sirius said irritably. "I won't stop you, though. Go ahead. Try to help her. But I've rotted half my life away in Azkaban, and it rather killed my ability to find good in people who don't possess it. Forgive me for not being entirely supportive of this."

"I understand where he's coming from, Mum," said Bill quietly. "She's… not a good person. And if she does love You-Know-Who like you all seem to think, then… the risk might me too much-"

"No. We will save her," Molly said stubbornly. She looked every person in the room dead in the eye and declared, "I refuse to lose my daughter again."

Then, not letting go of Arthur's hand, she dragged her husband out of the room.

"I… I think I'm going to go talk to Ron and Hermione," said Bill after a moment. Neither of them were official Order members, and so they had been kept on the periphery of the situation. "They deserve to know what's happened."

That left Sirius alone with Tonks and two strangely silent twins.

"I won't give up on her," Fred declared.

"We'll find a way to get our Ginny back," George added.

"No matter what everyone thinks," said Fred.

They filed out.

Tonks smiled tiredly at her cousin and gave him a light hug.

"I hate the thought of killing such a young girl, but I can't agree with what they're doing," Tonks said softly. "She's killed so many people… anyone else would be given the kiss, but because she's a Weasley… we're housing a known criminal, and she might kill all of us. I just… I wish Remus could be here. I need him."

Sirius glanced at the full moon outside.

"You can talk to him tomorrow," he said. "I don't know what he'll think about all of this. I don't even know what I think about all this. I want to help her, I really do, but…"

"It's hard. Dumbledore was right about one thing, though. We all need our rest. I should be going. Good night, Sirius."

With that, Sirius Black was left alone with an aching chest and a hollow feeling in his heart.

…

"It's going to be you two."

Fred looked up from his breakfast to see Dumbledore standing in front of George and him with a weary look on his face. He looked tired, but then again, Fred supposed that all of them probably did. The whole 'Ginny' thing had taken a lot out of the entire Order.

"What's going to be us two?" asked George.

"You're going to be the first two to meet your sister," Dumbledore explained patiently. "Other than your parents, you're the only two members of the household who are entirely committed to preserving her life, and I think her perceptive enough to recognize that. I wish for the both of you to visit her."

Fred and George looked at each other in shock. They were never the ones called upon to do anything important, and in such a touchy case, Fred kind of figured that someone with a bit more delicacy would be brought in.

"You know, Bill's probably a bit more suited for this. Or you could call Charlie up in Romania," said Fred.

"Yeah," George agreed. "Charlie's used to working with terrifying creatures that shoot fire at him."

"He'd be great with Ginny," Fred finished.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Charlie is busy enough at the time being. In addition, I was hoping that you would be able to put the girl at ease, at least somewhat. Charlie can come across as dangerous at first glance, whereas, and I truly mean no offense by this-"

"Fred and I are about as terrifying as fluffy bunnies."

"We understand, Professor," said Fred.

"Now when do you want us to do this?"

Dumbledore smiled.

"Right now."

The twins both froze with their forks halfway to their mouths. Fred was wearing neon green pajama pants with moving brooms on them, George's were orange and dotted with kneazles, their hair was sticking almost straight up, and fluffy lion slippers adorned their feet.

Fred frowned. George frowned.

"Do you really think _this _is a good idea?" Fred asked, gesturing to his attire.

"She's a deadly assassin," George added.

"I doubt she'll appreciate our sense of style."

"On the contrary," said Dumbledore, "there is a good chance that she will relax if we treat her as little like a threat as possible."

The twins both stared at him, but evidently the old man wasn't going to change his mind. Shrugging simultaneously, Fred and George shoveled the rest of their eggs into their mouths, washed them down with orange juice, and got to their feet.

"Alright then," said Fred.

"We totally got this," added George.

"I don't think it necessary to warn you," Dumbledore said as they started towards Ginny's room, "that you must always have your wands at the ready. Do not relax your guard, and do not let her get too close to you. I'd imagine she's as dangerous in physical combat as she is as a duelist."

"We understand, Professor," said Fred, no longer smiling. He hated hearing about how dangerous his baby sister was. Believing her dead was one thing, but knowing that she'd spent the last ten years living as You-Know-Who's daughter, learning to be an evil, heartless killer… it was more difficult than he ever could've imagined. He could still remember her as a tiny little six-year-old with a fiery temper and a penchant for kicking him in the shins when he did something she didn't like. She always felt bad afterwards, and would run up to him and hug his legs and say 'sorry' over and over again until Fred finally accepted her apology.

He swallowed thickly. Somehow, he didn't think this Ginny would apologize for hurting him.

Much too quickly, Dumbledore came to a stop in front of his sister's room.

"I won't go in with you," Dumbledore said. "I've already woken her up and warned her that she will be having visitors, but I believe she'll feel more comfortable if I am not there. If she does get violent, you need only cry out; I'll be right outside in case you need me."

Fred and George exchanged a worried look.

"I don't know, Professor…"

"Are you sure we should go in by ourselves?"

"As I said," Dumbledore said, "just keep your wands out and you should be fine. Be cautious, but also be yourselves. I chose the two of you for a reason." He gestured to the door. "You can open it whenever you are ready."

"Well, Gred," said George.

"I believe it's better now than never, Forge," said Fred.

"You do the honors, brother?"

Fred nodded and slowly reached forward, peeling open the door with a painstaking carefulness. George stepped in before him, and then Fred followed after, cautiously shutting the door behind him.

His eyes immediately landed on the single occupant of the room. The girl in front of him was small, probably five four or five five, and built lithe from what was clearly years of training. Though Fred knew her to be sixteen, she looked even _younger _at first. Her big brown eyes shone the warm brown color of melted chocolate, and her cheeks were round and freckled. Distinctive red hair swung playfully to her waist in a shimmering curtain.

Then Fred really looked, saw a hardness in the set of her jaw and something dark and terrifying in those chocolate eyes, and he felt his blood turn to ice.

"I…" Fred started. He cleared his throat and shook his head, hardly able to speak. Despite the more terrifying aspects of her appearance, Fred couldn't help but notice that his sister was beautiful. She looked almost like their mother had in pictures he'd seen of her at that age, except she had their father's eyes, most definitely. "You're my sister."

Ginny turned to face them more fully. She'd been standing near one of the room's many bookshelves, and now Fred noticed that she had a copy of some old novel in her hands. He stiffened, wondering if she was going to throw it at them.

She didn't. Instead, she gently set the book down and then stepped forward, those big brown eyes taking in the both of them shrewdly, absorbing every detail of their appearances.

"Well, this is a surprise," she said finally. Her voice was hoarse, and Fred wondered if it was from screaming or crying. "I would've expected my 'parents,' or at least that older brother. Are the important Weasleys too busy to see me?"

Fred and George snorted. Was she really trying to bruise their egos?

"Mind games, Gin?" asked George.

"Seriously?" said Fred.

"Our heads are a bit too thick for something like that to work."

"Might as well try to crack a rock open with a toothpick."

"Besides, we're here because Dumbledore picked us _over _all those other people."

Ginny raised a skeptical brow. Fred bit his tongue to keep from laughing. His mum did the exact same thing when she didn't buy their most recent excuse to shrug off the blame for some prank or another.

"Why on earth would he do that?" asked Ginny.

"Because Moody thinks you would've gotten tetchy if Mum and Dad burst in and started calling themselves your parents-" Fred began.

"-and after you threw him against that wall yesterday, Bill is kind of on the fence over whether or not we should put you down."

"Charlie would've been next-"

"-but he's in Romania-"

"-and a bit scary-looking anyway-"

"-so Dumbledore picked us-"

"-because we're as harmless as butterflies."

Ginny stared at them for a long moment before she turned around and walked over to her bed. "I doubt Dumbledore believes any of the psychology bullshit. He probably sent you in to annoy me to death."

Fred had to bite his tongue to keep from chastising his baby sister for her language. So maybe worse things came out of his mouth, but she was so little, and… and deceptively cute.

"Or maybe he was thinking you might need a laugh," George tried gently.

"I don't laugh."

"Not even an evil cackle?" asked Fred. "Because a dark witch _needs _an evil cackle."

"When I manage to burn down this building and kill everyone inside, I'll cackle just for you. Okay?"

Fred and George both fell silent. That was the kind of thing that a normal person would say as a caustic joke, but Fred didn't have any doubt in his mind that Ginny was perfectly serious. Not for the first time, Fred found himself wondering how all this possibly could've happened to his sweet little sister.

"So…" George finally tried. "Have you ever been to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

Ginny glowered. "No."

"Well, that's our store," Fred said, latching on to any idea that'd help alleviate a bit of the awkwardness. "It's a pretty booming business. In fact, we just came out with a new product."

"It's called U-No-Poo," George said.

"The constipation sensation that's gripping the nation!" added Fred with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Ever heard of it?"

"Has your _father _ever heard of it?"

"Because we've had a running joke these past few weeks," George explained, "trying to think up what he'd say if he found out."

The twins waited expectedly. Fred stared, hoping to catch even a tiny twitch of the lips, but if anything, her pretty features only grew more annoyed.

"My father does not have time to care about a useless joke shop," said Ginny icily. "But I have a fair idea of what he'd say if he realized you were mocking him."

"And what would that be?" George asked.

Ginny looked him dead in the eye. "Avada Kedavra."

The twins laughed out loud.

"That'd be a good punch line," Fred said, "if you weren't telling the truth."

"Hell, it was a a good punch line anyway," said George.

"It's nice to know you think me so amusing," said Ginny. She gave them one more hard stare, then walked over to her bed. Fred watched her movements closely, grudgingly impressed by how graceful she was. He definitely wasn't the kind of person who'd usually notice something like that, but Ginny all but danced across the room. Fred had to bite back an unwilling swell of pride that danced up in his chest, the kind that'd usually be accompanied by a boastful, 'That's my baby sister.'

_Yeah, _thought Fred. _My baby sister… the girl who's killed eighteen people and uses Unforgivables like they're tickling charms. _

"We think everything's amusing, if it makes you feel better," said George as Ginny threw herself down on the bed. Fred opened his mouth to add something to that, but before he could, his sister turned her back to them and pulled a pillow over her head.

The twins glanced at each other.

"I think she's done talking to us, Forge," said Fred.

"We probably shouldn't push it either, Gred," said George.

They turned back to Ginny, and Fred allowed himself once more to take in the little girl who looked so much like his mum: the sweet, innocent-seeming redhead with sparkling brown eyes, and those round little cheeks that practically screamed 'cute!'. "Er," he said awkwardly. "We'll leave you be then, but… we just wanted you to know that we're on your side in all this."

"Or at least on the 'leave Ginny alive' side," said George.

"And we do love you."

"Which we're generally too macho to tell anyone."

"So… please don't keep hating us forever."

"I guess that's everything."

"Bye Gin."

As he was leaving, Fred just barely heard Ginny mutter, "Thank Merlin." He couldn't help but cringe as he closed the door behind him.

Dumbledore looked at the twins questioningly.

"She didn't try attacking us," said Fred.

"I mean, that has to be a good sign, right?"

"I suppose so," said Dumbledore, but it was clearly for their benefit. "Did she say anything?"

"She called our joke shop useless," muttered George.

"And threatened to burn down the house and kill us all."

"Oh? And apparently she doesn't laugh."

"Although she promised us an evil cackle should she succeed with the whole burning down the house bit."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Well, I must say I wasn't imagining much more than that. Don't worry boys. She will come around eventually."

Fred nodded. "We know. It's just gonna suck around here until she does." He swallowed. "Now, if you don't mind, Professor… I think George and I should probably go tell the rest of the family about our little chat with Ginny. If that's okay, anyway."

"It's fine. Would you mind very much attempting to talk to her again this evening?"

"Not at all," said George.

"We'll stop by once we're done at the shop," Fred said, although when he and George exchanged a glance as they walked away from Dumbledore, he couldn't help but wonder whether or not the skepticism in George's face was mirrored in his own.


	4. The Angry Mister Potter

**Ch.4**

Ginny was going to kill something. She'd do it with her bare hands if she had to. She was tired, and cranky, and starving. Three days. She'd been in the Order's custody for three days, and she hadn't eaten nor slept during that time.

She'd actually taken to standing or laying on the floor whenever possible; her bed was much too comfortable, and she knew she wouldn't be able to lie down without falling asleep.

Then again, Ginny was beginning to wonder whether allowing herself just a few hours of rest would really make all that much difference. She almost doubted that the Order would take advantage of her defenselessness. They hadn't done anything at all with her up until that point. Hell, they hadn't even spoken to her. Not except for Dumbledore and those godforsaken twins.

Maybe they were waiting for the stupid twins to annoy her so badly that she decided to kill herself. That's what it felt like, sending the brainless morons in to talk to her two, maybe even three times a day.

Even just listening to them speak was infuriating… it was like they were too stupid to finish a full sentence, so they had to split each one between the two of them. Then there were all the ridiculous stories that Ginny cared nothing about, the blind assurances that they weren't giving up on her, and, of course, the damn laughter! They found _everything _funny. When she ignored them, they'd whisper among themselves and guffaw the entire time. If she tried to make them go away, they'd dig puns and punch lines out of her every other word and laugh at those. And, no matter how cruel she was, their smiles always came back eventually. They never took any of her words to heart, and sometimes they even morphed her barbs into freaking jokes.

More than the lack of food or sleep, it was those two that made life unbearable. Ginny hated them. They were immature and disgusting, and some of the things they wore would've made a five-year-old look mature. It was maddening to think that she was related to such creatures.

The clock on her bedroom wall struck eleven a.m.. Ginny braced herself, and, two minutes later, the menaces entered her room.

This time, one of them was carrying a tray of food.

"This is drugged, I'm gonna let you know," said George, holding up the meal. Ginny had been able to tell them apart since their first visit. They carried themselves differently. Fred stood straighter, with his head held almost obnoxiously high. George's posture was still flawlessly confident, but not quite so arrogant. Cocky, but not like Fred. Just like Fred was still exceptionally friendly, but not to the same degree as George.

"Doesn't telling me defeat the purpose of drugging it in the first place?" asked Ginny dryly.

"Yeah, but we were hoping you'd eat anyway. It's just dreamless sleep potion, and you really need sleep."

"We had to tell you, though; didn't want you thinking we were undermining your trust or anything."

Ginny raised a brow and peered up at the boys through narrow eyes. "You don't exactly have any trust to undermine. And I'm not going to eat it. I don't believe that dreamless sleep potion is the only thing in there."

"Truly, it is," said Fred.

"Come on," George added. "We're hardly untrustworthy blokes."

"No," said Ginny, "but you're gullible. Just because Dumbledore told you there's nothing in it doesn't mean it's true."

"How about this?" asked Fred. "If you eat the food and let yourself sleep, we'll keep everyone else away until you wake up. We'll stay right here in this room and chase away anyone who wants to hurt our baby sister."

Ginny grit her teeth against the 'baby sister' comment and smiled harshly. "Just because I don't think you have the stones to lie to me doesn't mean that I trust you to protect me. In any case, if you _really _want to help your 'baby sister,' let me go; I'm going to die if I stay here like this too much longer."

"Ginny," Fred pleaded. "You know you'll pass out eventually anyway, and then the Order will force feed you and you'll be super-weak, and there'll be no way for you to fight back if your crazy theories about us wanting to drug you for information are true."

"Which they aren't, by the way," said George.

Ginny gritted her teeth and glared at them. The food smelt so good, and she wanted to sleep so badly… they had a point, too, about her passing out and not being strong enough to make a nuisance of herself if the Order did decide to shove truth potion down her throat. Giving in still didn't feel right, though… she didn't want to sleep some place in the heart of enemy territory, and she sure as hell didn't want to accidently get slipped Veritaserum and blab all her father's secrets. But she was getting _so _weak…

"You two won't leave until I wake up?" Ginny asked. She trusted them more than Dumbledore anyway; the idiots did seem to genuinely care for her, though they also seemed to have trouble separating the girl she'd become from the one they'd lost ten years ago. "And you won't let anyone come in and ask me questions or anything?"

"We swear we won't," said Fred.

"Cross our hearts," added George.

"Now please eat."

"Everyone's worried, really."

"And they haven't even seen how terrible you look."

"Not that you look terrible- you're beautiful really, but-"

"Can I have my food now, please?" Ginny cut in coldly. George hastily scrambled to set the plate down a few feet in front of her, being careful not to get too close. Ginny stared at it for a long moment after he'd retreated. She was having trouble focusing on what, exactly, was in front of her. Her vision was blurry and her head was pounding, and really all that registered with her was that it smelled really good.

Slowly, Ginny reached out for the tray and set it in her lap. It was all finger food- they were evidently too smart to give her any kind of cutlery- and she cautiously picked up a piece of bread and began chewing, intending to eat slowly. That didn't happen. After she took her first bite, she dug in ravenously, filling her mouth with as much food as she possibly could. Within minutes, her tray was completely cleared, and her eyelids were drooping pleasantly. Just as she felt herself drifting off, she vaguely registered the sensation of strong arms picking her up and carrying her somewhere. Then blankets were tucked in around her, and she felt a brotherly kiss land on her forehead just before unconsciousness stole her away completely.

…

Ginny didn't know where she was when she woke up. She jerked into a sitting position and reached for her wand, panicking when she couldn't find it. A few seconds passed when she went into a blind panic, and then the events of the previous few days came flooding back. Getting kidnapped by the house elf, losing the duel, being locked up… the twins…

Her eyes immediately scanned the room, searching for Fred and George. She'd eaten their food and asked them to stay with her, and that was absolutely unacceptable. She was going to have to make sure that they knew it was a onetime thing, that she would never allow herself to become so vulnerable again, and…

Her train of thought came to a halt when she caught sight of the twins, laying in front of the door, side-by-side. They were both asleep, leaning up against each other with their wands dangling in their hands. Evidently the both of them were dead tired- there were dark circles under their eyes and their skin was even paler than usual. Their long legs were sprawled out in front of them, and one of them- it was hard to tell which when neither of their mannerisms were apparent- was drooling. They both snored softly.

Ginny blinked blearily. Her first thought was that she could steal their wands and make a break for it, but they were inside the four-foot circle near the door- the one that Dumbledore had charmed so she couldn't enter. Her next was, inexplicably enough, that they were cute. She didn't know how long she'd slept, but she felt almost entirely rested, and after staying awake for so long, well… she figured it'd been a long time. And the twins very clearly hadn't left her. They'd kept their promise for whatever reason, and-

Ginny shook her head sharply. They were either trying to lure her in, or, more likely, they were just too stupid to realize that the girl they were helping wasn't their sister. Neither of the twins cared about the murderer she'd become- that was obvious- and any favorable actions on their parts were coincidence. Besides, they were annoying and infuriating, and dumber than a sack of bricks.

Glaring at them angrily, Ginny made her way to the bathroom that was adjacent to her quarters and quickly cleaned up, hoping they'd be gone by the time she returned.

They weren't. They were still sleeping, still looking perfectly innocent, and still taking up unwanted space in her room.

Frustrated, she picked up a pillow off her bed and tossed it at them as hard as she could.

Both of them jumped to their feet immediately. Ginny watched on as they screamed, smacked heads, and then turned as one to look at her.

Then- and it must've been a side effect of the dreamless sleep potion or something, because she hadn't been lying to the twins when she said she never laughed- she doubled over laughing. It wasn't her fault; they looked so stupidly shocked and ridiculous, and they were both so terrified! She didn't know if their eyes could've gotten much bigger, and the hitting their heads thing... she'd never seen anyone make fools of themselves quite so thoroughly before.

"I have no idea how I'm related to you two idiots," Ginny said once she managed to rein in her laughter. She then remembered that she wanted to be alone and narrowed her eyes. "Now leave."

They ignored her.

"No one touched you," Fred said. He was smiling like a moron.

"We made sure of it," George added. The grin on his face was every bit as broad as Fred's.

"They would've hit us with the door if they'd tried to come in."

"And we're really sorry for falling asleep, but you were out for over a day-"

"-and we were _so _tired."

"We missed work and everything."

"But you trust us now, right?"

"And you'll eat and sleep and everything from now on?"

"Because you still look really unhealthy."

They both peered at her with quivering lips and perfect brown puppy dog eyes. Ginny's face twisted into an ugly sneer at their groveling. It was ridiculous that those two children could honestly be the owners of the fastest growing business in wizarding London. She supposed it was only a sign of just how stupid the world had grown under the weak and foolish leaders that had ruled since her father's fall from power.

Really, such an absence of dignity was not moving… not at all.

"I'll eat and sleep from now on," said Ginny in a low voice, "if you get your ugly arses out of my room."

The twins quickly scrambled out the door, but Ginny could very easily hear the two of them screaming as they ran down the hall. "SHE LAUGHED! OUR SISTER LAUGHED!"

Ginny punched a wall.

Dammit. Now she'd never get rid of them.

…

Albus Dumbledore should have been in a good mood. Though he'd yet to introduce any of the Weasleys to Ginevra outside of the twins, their interactions with her appeared to be going well. Ever since the first day she'd eaten the meal they brought her, she'd agreed to sleep so long as they kept watch, and she ate any food that they delivered. She was still temperamental, and Fred and George both reported that there hadn't been any more unexpected bouts of laughter, nor had she been even the least bit hospitable to either of them, but she hadn't shown signs of violence either.

It was better than he could have hoped for. Fred and George had visited her at least twice a day for seven consecutive days, and they were coming out of each meeting slightly more hopeful than the previous. Though he knew little true progress was being made, there also had been no steps taken in the opposite direction. The Order was beginning to lose interest in the girl, and even Sirius and Moody, the two members most strongly in favor of eliminating her, had grown to believe that they were able to contain the problem enough to allow Ginevra to live, at least so long as the proper security measures continued to be implemented.

Albus couldn't have asked for things to be going much better. The mission was flowing smoothly, and there hadn't been any real bumps in the road after they'd solved the girl's eating problem.

That was, unfortunately, all about to change.

Harry Potter was to arrive at Number 12 Grimmauld place within the hour. He still had no knowledge of Ginevra Riddle's existence, nor was he aware that Voldemort's assassin had ever been captured. Albus was quite aware that the boy would arrive in a good mood- he'd be leaving the Dursleys for the last time, so naturally he would be thrilled- and he figured that he would probably be expecting to be met with a party or celebration of some sort.

Everyone in the Order agreed it best not to go through with such a thing. Harry would only be made more angry if Ginevra's presence was masked with balloons and a feast. Sirius would tell him of her immediately upon his arrival. The wards around the room were already adjusted to compensate for Harry's expected violent reaction, and he would not be allowed near Ginevra until it was proved he'd calmed sufficiently to handle it. It was as simple as that, yet infinitely more complicated. Harry would be angry. Albus knew him well enough to recognize that. He would not want the daughter of his parents' killer living in comfort when she belonged in Azkaban.

Albus had thought the same thing many times himself, but he could not fault the girl for not knowing better. She was little different than a victim of the Imperius Curse, and he refused to punish her for things she had been taught to do since early childhood. Harry, unfortunately, was likely to be less understanding. Though Dumbledore loved the boy dearly, he saw good and evil as a black and white thing when Dumbledore knew all too well that it was unmistakably gray.

Harry's reaction, however, was not what Albus was most worried about. Ginevra would surely figure out that the Boy Who Lived was staying with them- he had no doubt the twins would tell her, as they insisted upon providing her with as much information as they were able- and he dreaded what she would do to the boy whom her father hated above all others.

It was nerve-wrecking, and the single variable threatened to upset the balance that had been so precariously attained over the course of the last week.

Albus closed his eyes and sighed. He'd fretted and worried and made what few preparations he could think of that would make any kind of difference at all. The situation was now out of his hands.

He only prayed that it would not escalate into something he could not control.

…

Harry Potter whistled cheerfully as he scooted Hedwig's cage several inches to the left, arranging it in the middle of the Dursleys' kitchen just so. Once he was satisfied it was in the perfect place, he looked at his trunk, decided it was half a foot too far to the right, and kicked it into a more suitable location.

He very well knew that he was being ridiculous, but his veins hummed with anxiety. He would officially turn seventeen at midnight, and with the passing date came the end of his tenure at the Dursleys'. No longer did his hated childhood prison shield him from Voldemort's attacks. While normally that would hardly be cause to celebrate, the Boy Who Loved was thrilled.

He was moving out. His official home would be with Sirius from that day forward. There would be no more summers of scouring the Daily Prophet for news, no more days of Dudley's bullying or Vernon's yelling. It was over. He was free. Sirius was due to show up at any second, and as soon as the animagus arrived, they'd apparate away and he'd be home free.

Hedwig made an anxious hooting noise, and Harry dug a nut out of his pocket and fed it to her with shaking hands, excitement coursing through every inch of him.

He was happy. Despite Voldemort's terrible temper the last week or so- his scar had been acting up horribly- Harry Potter was more genuinely happy than he'd been in a very, very long time.

"Don't worry, Hedwig," Harry told his bird softly. "We're leaving soon."

The words had only just left his mouth when a loud _CRACK! _rang through the kitchen. Harry stumbled out of his crouch and fell backwards on the tile floor, only to smile widely when he saw his godfather sniggering in front of him.

"And You-Know-Who's supposedly scared of you?" Sirius asked with a wolfish grin. "Hell, it looks like you've been following the Dursleys' exercise program over the summer."

"Sirius!" Harry protested, still laughing. "My uncle's just in the other room. He can probably hear you."

"What's he doing in there? I figured he'd at least want to tell you good-bye," said Sirius. Harry only raised a brow. His godfather very well knew that the Dursleys were all still under the impression that he was an escaped murderer. When Sirius came, they hid. It was the way things had worked over the past couple of years.

"Oh, right. He's still tetchy about that thing where I killed all those Muggles." Sirius laughed and took out his wand, then ambled over to the door between the living room and the kitchen, poked his head in, and said, "'ello Vernon! Don't mind if I grab a snack or two for the road, do ya?" Harry heard something heavy fall on the floor- he guessed his uncle- and then Sirius, barking out laughter like a dog, shut the door and turned back to Harry. "Damn, that never gets old."

"You could be more polite," Harry said. "He hasn't raised his voice to me once all summer."

"Yeah, because I scare the piss out of him. Now come on, let's get you home… Although, Harry?"

Harry didn't fail to miss the way his godfather's face darkened at his last two words. "What's wrong, Sirius?"

"Well, nothing's wrong… per se," the older man said. "I just thought I should tell you that we postponed your birthday supper. There's a not-quite-pleasant surprise waiting for you back at Grimmauld Place, and we wanted to get that out of the way this evening."

"What kind of surprise?" asked Harry hesitantly.

"Well… we've got a prisoner staying in the house. I think I should wait to tell you the rest until we have more time. Come on now. We best be off."

"Prisoner?" Harry asked through gritted teeth. Sirius was already scooping up his bags and things, but Harry didn't move. His hands were shaking, and he was hard-pressed to bite back a sharp response. Sirius wouldn't have forewarned him if it wasn't a big deal, and, once again, he had been told _nothing _about any bloody prisoner. The fate of the world was in _his _hands, not the hands of the Order or Dumbledore or anyone else, and yet he was always the one in the dark about everything. He wasn't stupid, he'd proved he could take care of himself more times than he could count, and never once had he failed at something he set out to do, so _why did everyone treat him like a child!?_

"I know, Harry. I wanted to tell you, and I gave them all a piece of my mind for keeping her there in the first place, but please, we do need to get back to Headquarters. It's a rather long story, and I'd like to be able to tell it without interruption."

Harry had to bite his tongue from snapping at his godfather, but Sirius's tone of voice left no room for negotiation. Roughly, he put a hand on the other man's arm. He was so used to side-along apparating by that point- to getting dragged along behind everyone else and never getting to go anywhere himself- that he didn't even blink when he felt the familiar squeezing sensation. Landing on his feet was easy enough as well, and as soon as he had his bearings, he strode out ahead of Sirius and burst into Grimmauld place, his godfather struggling to keep up.

There was no one waiting to greet him.

"They're all at the Burrow," Sirius panted. "Everyone thought it best they stay out of the way tonight; they'll come for your birthday tomorrow. This is a rather… touchy matter. Now, if you'd follow me into the library…"

Harry said nothing, only did as he was told even though the obvious magnitude of the secret felt like a punch in the gut. Something big had happened, was happening, and he hadn't even been giving an _inkling _of the truth. No one had written him with promises of explaining what was going on when he got to Grimmauld Place; Harry hadn't even known that there was something needing to be explained.

Once in the library, Harry made a beeline to the first chair he saw. Sirius hovered nervously in front of him.

"I'll have you know," he said, "that I had absolutely nothing to do with this. I thought it a stupid mission from the beginning, and though I'm not quite as opposed to it as I had been, I still think it's risky and unnecessary, and you do not know how much it kills me that I spent half my life in Azkaban for doing _nothing _when they're letting this little monster go free, but-"

"_Sirius_," said Harry, sensing that his godfather was going to work himself into a fit.

"Right, sorry," he apologized. "I…" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "The prisoner is Voldemort's assassin. Remember, we'd just started discussing it right when you arrived last year? The Death Eater who was carrying out ridiculous solo missions?"

Harry froze in place.

"And you've got him? Who is it? Malfoy? Lestrange? Have you gotten any information out of him?"

Sirius swallowed. "Harry, it's not a Death Eater, not technically. Voldemort… it turns out that he kidnapped a young girl ten years ago. She was six at the time, but he fed her a memory potion and raised her as his daughter from that point on. I have no idea what in the _hell _he's done with her, but she almost out-dueled Bill, Dumbledore, and I. _Alone_."

Harry blinked.

A girl? A _sixteen-year-old_ _girl?_ He shook his head. That was ridiculous. He couldn't imagine someone younger than him killing so many people… and almost out-dueling Bill, Sirius, and Dumbledore together?

Harry couldn't wrap his head around the idea.

"You're wrong," he said. "There's no way it can be a girl..."

"It is, Harry. We're sure of it."

"B-but… what'd Voldemort do? Raise her as his attack dog or something?"

"No, Harry. Dumbledore thinks that he treated her as if she was his own child, and she clearly cares for him like a father. But you asked what we've gotten out of her, right?"

Harry nodded.

Here, Sirius's expression twisted into a look of pure disgust.

"We've gotten nothing, Harry, because we _haven't tried_. We're not going to start trying anytime soon either. We've got the girl on a regular meal plan, she's in one of the nicest rooms in the house… hell, she even has books to keep her entertained."

"_Why?" _Harry blurted. "Because she's so young?" He got to his feet and started pacing madly. "Voldemort's… Voldemort's _daughter _is at Headquarters, and we have done _nothing _to her? She's killed people, Sirius… Order members! And all the property damage… and just out of principle, shouldn't we be using her as bait? Pumping her for information? I don't bloody know… shouldn't we be doing _something_?"

Sirius reached out and put a gentle hand on Harry's arm, but Harry brushed him off and continued his pacing.

"I agree, Harry," said Sirius slowly, "but there are members of the Order who don't."

"But _why not_?"

"I want you to think for a moment," Sirius told Harry. "This girl was kidnapped ten years ago, when she was six. She would be sixteen now, and-"

Harry stopped mid-step and almost fell on the floor in his haste to turn and face Sirius. He was already shaking his head even as the math added up eerily well, because of course he'd heard the stories. He'd seen Ginevra Weasley's hand on Molly's clock, had heard the story of how she went missing in Albania, never to be found again. Of how she went missing ten years ago… when she was six.

It couldn't be true, and yet it explained everything… why she was being kept in such comfort, why the Order wasn't using the situation to its full advantage, why his letters from Ron had been so strangely short lately, which he hadn't even noticed, not until he thought on it.

Sirius must've recognized the look of realization that flashed through Harry's eyes, because he said, "Ginevra Weasley isn't dead, Harry. She's right here."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

"No. No Weasley would ever kill so many people, would ever burn down half of Europe… It might be the same physically, but that girl… that_thing _is a monster, literally the spawn of Satan." Harry looked right at Sirius. "Ginevra Weasley _is _dead, and the Weasleys, if they're wasting an opportunity like this for a murderer… for the daughter of the creature that killed my parents, then they're… they're mad. Because no one who's spent that much time under Voldemort's hand is a real person anymore."

"Harry…" tried Sirius.

"No! You know it's true. The Weasleys aren't fighting this war as directly as I am… something like this could save my life, could save _hundreds of lives_, and they're refusing to see sense because they're too stuck up on the image of a girl who died ten years ago!"

"You never knew Ginny," Sirius said slowly. "They did. It's hard on them."

"I know that! I love the Weasleys like my own family, and I've seen how hard it is, but that doesn't mean…" Harry took a gasping breath. "Okay, Sirius. Tell me this: What's she like?"

Sirius raked a hand through his shaggy hair, and Harry knew that he didn't want to answer. He didn't _need _to answer. Harry knew what Voldemort's followers were, and he couldn't imagine his daughter to be any better.

"I haven't spoken to her," Sirius finally said. "I did duel her when we first got here, and she was throwing around the killing curse like it was nothing. She was… inhumanly fast, and I don't think Dumbledore could've controlled a fiendfyre like she did. I'd bet my magic that she could beat anyone in the Order one-on-one except Dumbledore, and… there was a point in the duel where she was using Bill's unconscious body as a human shield… Dumbledore couldn't fire Harry. I was just barely conscious enough to get a spell at her, or else I think she might've won."

Harry could've said anything to that, but Sirius's last words rang loud in his ears.

"You were barely conscious enough? Sirius, what did she do to you?"

His godfather shrugged. "Nothing, really. Just got nailed with a Sectumsempra. Dumbledore got me cleaned up right afterwards-"

"Sirius! Quit treating this like it's nothing!"

"What do you want me to say, Harry?" Sirius shot at him. "The girl's a demon, alright? We all know it, but the Weasleys and Dumbledore aren't going to give up until it becomes obvious that she doesn't have a glimmer of goodness left in her. And hell, maybe she does. Maybe little Ginny Weasley is in there somewhere. All I know is that there's nothing we can do about her presence, so you might as well get used to it."

Harry fumed silently for a long moment. He had a feeling that none of his friends would see eye-to-eye with him on this. Ron was obviously biased, and Hermione was almost ridiculous in her drive to save everything that could be saved.

Maybe it _was_ callous of him to be so cold, but he'd seen people die in the war. His entire sixth year had been hell. He'd spent every weekend and holiday off with Dumbledore, searching for Horcruxes and trying to clean up after Death Eater attacks while his friends stayed back in the tower and fretted over him. He'd seen too many families separated from loved ones, had seen too much evil, not to realize that sentimentality had no place in war. Keeping Voldemort's daughter around was dangerous and foolish, and he didn't think he'd ever be able to accept it.

"I can't believe there's _nothing _we can do about this."

"Calm down, Harry. No one's noticed her up there after the first day or so. Well, no one except the twins. Dumbledore thinks they're the least threatening, so he's been having them talk with her a few times every day. He seems to believe they're growing on her, too. She won't eat food from anyone else, and they have to stand guard by the door while she sleeps; she's still convinced we're trying to drug her."

"Well, we should be," Harry muttered. "What do Fred and George think about all this?"

Sirius barked out a laugh.

"They've become her biggest fans. From what it sounds, she does nothing but ignore them or scream abuse whenever they're in there, but they got her to laugh once and now they're obsessed. Every other word out of their mouths is a Ginny quote, and they spend most of their meals figuring out ways to get on her good side."

"Sounds like a bloody waste of time if you ask me," Harry muttered. He had no trouble believing what Sirius said about the twins, though. They were the most optimistic people he'd ever met. Dumbledore may not have been handing the situation well, but Harry had to admit that sending them in had been a good move. "You don't make it sound like they're making much progress."

"They're making no progress. She trusts them just enough not to drug her, and George admitted that's only because she doesn't think they've got the stones to lie to her face."

Harry grit his teeth. He hated the thought of the twins putting so much time into a girl who thought so little of them.

"And they still visit her?"

"They look forward to it," said Sirius.

"What about everyone else?"

"Dumbledore hasn't sent anyone in yet. Alastor had a good point the other day, saying that he didn't think Ginny would much appreciate Molly and Arthur bursting into her room and trying to play her parents when she was just ripped away from her father. Bill is a bit iffy on whether or not he's even on board with the whole save-Ginny thing after she used him as a human shield, Charlie can't make it down from Romania, and Ron, well… he's kind of dense. No one trusts him not to say something that'll get him killed. Although there has been talk of maybe sending another brother in if she keeps tolerating Fred and George."

"And the non-Weasleys?" asked Harry.

"Dumbledore is really itching to try Hermione, but he wants to wait until Ginny settles down from your arrival to send her in. Remus and Moody have been off on a mission, Tonks doesn't want anything to do with the girl, and, well… I'm not trusted alone with her. I might've spouted off some after she hit me with that curse."

"I would've too," Harry muttered.

"I probably shouldn't have. We _had_ just kidnapped her... I'm still furious that she's here, but I've calmed down. I won't do anything to her now. Not until she gives me a reason to."

"The way it sounds, she's got almost an entire family that'll leap to her defense no matter what she does."

"They're loyal," Sirius said dismissively. "Almost ridiculously so."

"So I suppose that means I'm not going to be allowed a visit anytime soon?"

"Do you want to see her?" asked Sirius, surprised.

Harry shrugged. He had quite a few disparaging comments he wanted to fire in her direction, but beyond that, he _was_ curious. He wanted to see Voldemort's daughter, wanted to meet the girl who was special enough to kill almost twenty people and get off with a tap on the wrist. He knew he wouldn't like what he saw, knew it'd probably make him angry, but he wanted to visit her all the same.

"I'm curious."

"I'll talk to Dumbledore. You'll have to behave yourself, of course, but it might be a good idea to get your meeting out of the way anyway. She about bit the twins' heads off when they told her you were coming- started shrieking at them and everything- but maybe she'll calm down a bit if you two can have a little tête-à-tête. You know, so you can hash out all the issues you have with each other."

"I don't see why _she'd _have any issues with _me_," muttered Harry.

"You're trying to kill her father, Harry," said Sirius hesitantly. "No matter. I will talk to Dumbledore. He didn't seem especially keen on allowing you two near each other, but if you really want, maybe I'll be able to change his mind."

"I really want," Harry insisted.

"Right. I'll go talk to him. Would you like me to grab you a quick bite to eat, or would you rather head straight to your room?"

Harry looked right at Sirius.

"I can't stomach any food right now. I'm sorry."

"I've hardly been able to all week. I'm sure we'll get over it eventually. Now come on. I'll help you with your things."

Harry and Sirius then started up the stairs of Grimmauld place: Harry seething and shaking with anger both at the situation and at not being told about it, and Sirius sneaking glances at his godson, silently wondering at the wisdom of having him in the same house as Ginevra Riddle in the first place.

Throwing them in the same environment was like mixing fire and gasoline, and Sirius worried that two of the most powerful players in the war would explode if they got too close.


	5. Harsh Truths and Cruel Lies

**Ch.5**

Ginny paced her room like a caged animal, her left hand- her wand hand- clenched into a fist as though she were holding the precious stick of wood, as if she could feel the warmth of magic flow through her arm and into the instrument. It would explode out of it then, in a burst of flashing green light, hit Harry Potter dead in the chest, and kill the Boy Who Lived. Her father's problem would be finished, and the boy who dared to do harm to Lord Voldemort would be dead.

She could already picture Potter's smarmy little face, his mouth hanging open and those precious glasses of his cracked on the floor. Ginny hadn't ever seen Potter in person, of course, hadn't really even seen pictures except a blurry head shot that'd been in the Daily Prophet after his trial for underage magic before his fifth year, but she expected she knew exactly what he looked like. He'd be tall and strong- because hero-types were always gifted with intimidating physiques- and his face would be flawlessly handsome. There wouldn't be a single black hair out of place on his head, and every piece of clothing he wore would be in impeccable order.

Harry Potter was the type, Ginny imagined, who would look beautiful even in death.

"Ginny," said George pleadingly. "Say something. _Please_."

Ginny turned to face him. He looked almost concerned. Not 'I'm worried you're going to kill me' concerned, like she was used to, but rather 'Are you okay?' concerned.

That only served to make her even more angry.

"What in the fuck do you want me to say? That I'm _thrilled _that the ignorant creature who killed my father is nesting under the same roof as I am? I want to kill him, George. That's what I'm doing right now. I'm imagining how it'd feel to kill him."

Neither of the twins blinked, and Ginny howled in frustration. They were getting too used to her, and that wasn't a good thing. Everything she said had started to bounce off of them, and it took away her desire to say anything in the first place. What good was trying to scare the fools if they were too stupid to be scared?

"Harry really isn't so bad," Fred tried. They hadn't ventured fully into the room like they'd gotten into a habit of doing over the last couple days. Instead, they hovered right near the door in their little safety zone. At least they weren't stupid enough not to realize she wasn't to be messed with in the mood she was in.

"Really, he isn't," added George.

"He didn't exactly try to kill your father, did he now? Old Voldie would be fine if he hadn't went after Harry first."

"And Harry's real sick of all this war stuff anyway."

"He never wanted to be a part of it in the first place."

Ginny snorted at that. She'd heard enough blithering rumors of Harry's so-called 'humble' nature before. It seemed as though _everyone _talked about it. Then again, that was undoubtedly Potter's intention. Of course playing the reluctant hero would only make him more loveable. She had no doubt that publicity was his only motivation in pretending he didn't want the infamy that luck had handed him when he unwittingly eliminated her father so many years ago.

"That's what he wants you to think," Ginny hissed.

She then went back to her furious pacing.

"We were listening at the door when Harry was talking with Sirius," said Fred after a while. "He wants to meet you, and Sirius is going to try to get Dumbledore to let him."

Ginny laughed out loud.

"Let him come. The arrogant bastard will kill me if he has the chance. I'm sure of it. Then I could finally get out of his damned hell hole."

They both knew that Ginny didn't have a death wish, but neither saw fit to argue.

"Harry wouldn't kill you when he knows how much it'd hurt our family, Gin," said George.

"Of course not," Ginny spat venomously. "Because Harry's perfect."

"Except he isn't," Fred insisted.

"His temper is worse than yours."

"He has a terrible habit of choosing if something is good or bad and never changing his mind about it."

"And sometimes he's infuriatingly reserved."

"See, if he has a problem, he'll internalize it and refuse to say anything-"

"-and then he'll blow up on everyone when it gets to be too much, and be furious that no one cared enough to help him-"

"-when he never let anyone near him in the first place."

Ginny raised a brow at his. It didn't sound like dissention in the ranks- in fact, the assessment was almost fond and brotherly- but it was interesting to hear that Harry Potter had weakness. Heck, if Ginny didn't know any better, she'd almost say that his personality closely paralleled her father's.

How curious.

"To me," said Ginny, despite just concluding that Harry sounded rather like her own father, "he sounds like a sanctimonious bitch."

"Merlin, no," said Fred. "Harry's great most of the time."

"Just not when he's in one of his moods."

"If you want to meet a sanctimonious bitch, we'll take you down to the Ministry to visit our other brother, Percy."

Ginny shrugged.

"Alright then. Take me to the Ministry, and I'll meet Percy and quit bitching about Potter."

Fred and George laughed.

"That was a sad attempt at escape," said George.

"You really are losing your manipulative touch here."

"I think our delicate personalities are wearing off on you."

Ginny growled under her breath.

"There is nothing about me that is _fucking_ _delicate_. You'll see that once Potter ventures in here, and I jump his arrogant arse the second he gets close enough." Ginny waved a hand and wandlessly conjured a flame, holding it almost tenderly in front of her. "Just because nothing in here can catch fire," she went on, furiously tossing the ball into the wall and watching it evaporate into nothing, "doesn't mean that Potter won't."

"You know that Dumbledore will be waiting right outside when Harry's in here," said Fred. He didn't look surprised. Neither did George. They'd seen Ginny throw fits before.

"And he'll burst in on time to rescue Harry,"

"-so he'll still be alive, but you'll be killed."

Ginny made an indignant noise in the back of her throat.

"At least I'd die happy if my last memory was Potter burning to a crisp."

"You're too concerned about self-preservation for that," Fred said.

"Besides, Harry probably won't get out of the safe circle," said George.

"He isn't stupid, you know."

"_Shut up_," said Ginny. "I know, okay? I fucking know. I won't be able to kill Potter. At least not until you idiots start trusting me more."

"Good," said Fred. "Because we'll start trusting you as soon as you're trustworthy."

"And then you won't want to kill Harry anyway."

Ginny spun on them once more.

"The day that I don't want to kill Potter," said Ginny, "is the day that my father sends Dumbledore a box of chocolates and an apology for all of the trouble he's caused."

Fred and George both grinned.

"Well," said Fred, "at least it's not hopeless."

"You're not helping," hissed Ginny. "Get. Out."

They didn't flee in fear as they should have. Rather, the two of them both waved genially and loped out of the room as if they'd just finished visiting a friend at St. Mungo's.

Ginny sent a book flying after them, but it bounced harmlessly off the charmed area around the door.

The twins' laughter echoed in the room as they walked away.

…

"...and you'll have to be stay within five feet of the door at all times, and I trust that you know how to conduct yourself properly. You are not to scream or bait Ginevra into any arguments. I am allowing you to meet her solely so you can accept her presence and move on. We cannot afford-"

"-for me to get hurt," Harry finished impatiently. He looked at Dumbledore with barely concealed annoyance. He generally wasn't quite so short-tempered with the Headmaster, but the old man was beginning to wear on him. _Again, _he'd shown a complete lack of trust in Harry by not telling him about Ginny as soon as they captured her, and it was driving him mad. "I know. Can I go in now?"

"Harry," said Dumbledore warningly. "You are the first person I have allowed in here besides the twins. This is a gamble that I taking in order to make _you _more comfortable. Do not get angry with me. I am simply attempting to ensure that I will not regret it."

"I'll stay in the safe-zone," Harry said dryly. "I get it, alright? Now can I go in?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips, but nodded his assent and gestured Harry forward. Unsure of what to expect but with a head swimming with anger and defensiveness, Harry took a deep, shaky breath and stepped forward.

The sight that met him was shocking.

A small girl who didn't look a day over fifteen was sprawled across a carpet in the middle of the room, lying on her stomach with a book setting in front of her. Her bare feet were crossed at the ankles in midair, and her long, shimmering red hair delicately curtained her face.

She looked like a perfectly normal, _friendly _girl, and Harry let his guard down just enough that he reared back in shock when her head jerked up and she pinned him with a stare more heated, more full of hate than Harry could remember seeing on any death eater he'd faced.

Harry blinked in shock. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it sure as hell hadn't been someone so _small_, so... so… "_Pretty_," a little voice in the back of Harry's head spoke up, although he pushed it down immediately. She was… attractive, yes, but not when her freckled features were twisted like they were at that moment, not when her melted-chocolate eyes shown with the same hatred that Harry was sure he felt.

For the longest time, they stood there, both of them staring, waiting for the other to make the first move. Then Ginny slowly closed the book she was reading and stiffly got to her feet. Harry was surprised, despite himself, to see how tiny she was. Shorter than himself by a few inches and with a somewhat slight bone-structure, he couldn't imagine her managing to look _less _threatening.

"Huh," Ginny said then, lips curved up in a challenging smirk. "Short. Scruffy. Pale. You don't look like much."

Harry stiffened at the venom in her voice. It sounded ridiculously out of place coming from such a normal-looking girl.

_But she's not normal._

Right. She may have looked like a mini-Molly, but she'd killed eighteen people, had been raised by Lord Voldemort himself. It'd been stupid of him to forget that, even for a second. He knew better than the judge things from what they looked like at first glance- the whole business with Sirius had taught him that rather quickly- and it wouldn't do him good to forget that Ginny was dangerous just because she didn't look it.

"Maybe I'd look a bit more healthy if I hadn't spent ten years of my life eating scraps from a broom cupboard," Harry replied darkly.

Ginny snorted.

"Sounds like you're blaming my father for that, Harry Potter." Her lips curved up into a mocking smile, and she sweetly went on, "All Daddy did was off your pathetic, filthy, _useless _parents. It was Dumbledore that sent you to live with those obscene Muggles. Or are you too blind to realize that?"

Harry stiffened angrily, and despite Dumbledore's warning not to get into an argument, shot back, "I needed protection from _your psychopathic father!"_

"Like there weren't other ways." Ginny laughed harshly. "My father was _dead _until you were seven, and he didn't try to kill you for the first time for four years after that. Dumbledore locked you up with your uncle because it was easier for _him_. He's a lying, megalomaniacal, manipulative bastard, and you're blind if you think otherwise."

"Dumbledore is a hundred times the man your father is-"

"My father is no man," Ginny cut in. "He's a god. Immortal, all-powerful…" She shook her head, eyes flashing, and even though Harry was almost blind with anger, he also couldn't help but think her stunning. "And so much more than Albus Dumbledore will ever be."

"You cannot kill a god, and your father has already died once," Harry gritted out.

"And yet he came back, stronger and more powerful than ever," said Ginny. She took a threatening step forward, and Harry could feel the air around them crackling with electricity. "Don't even try to deny it. He _won't _die again, and you know it. Even Dumbledore knows it." She pressed right up against the barrier that kept them from touching each other, and it took every bit of strength Harry had not to rise to her bait and attack her. "That's why he throws you into so many life-threatening situations, you know. He's had the fate of the world on your shoulders since you learned magic exists, and never once has he offered to share the burden. It's because he knows that my father will only lose if you, the Boy Who Lucked Out, manages to do so again. He's preparing you like a calf for slaughter, knowing that things will most certainly go wrong and only pretending to care about you so you'll go along without asking too many questions."

"Dumbledore-"

"-is no better than my father," Ginny interrupted. She was smiling beautifully, like a demented angel. "The only difference is that my father is physically _unable _to love. Your precious Dumbledore, on the other hand?" She chuckled under her breath, the sound eerily similar to Lord Voldemort's. "He simply _doesn't _love you. A chess master doesn't grow attached to their pawns, after all-"

Harry socked her in the face, his hand soaring through the barrier and making perfect contact. Ginny reeled backwards, but even though he'd heard bone crunch in her nose, even though blood was streaming down her face, she straightened nearly immediately, low, haunting laughs escaping her lips, her eyes shining as though he hadn't touched her at all.

Harry almost cared that he'd punched a girl, but her total non-reaction made it a lot easier not to feel disgusted with himself.

"My words hit a little too close to your own fears, Potter?" Harry didn't answer, and she replied, "How delightful. I've already got you doubting yourself after only a day. Always knew you'd be the weak-minded type. Physically weak, too, if that punch was any indication." The blood was dripping into her mouth, but she didn't seem to notice, only continued looking at him with narrow, hate-filled eyes and the same coldly amused smile on her face that he'd seen from her father the few times they'd met in person. "I'm rather disappointed in my father, actually." She locked gazes with him. "If I were him, I would have just offed you already. He's spending too much unnecessary time worrying over a total non-threat. Really, I'm sure he'd find you even easier to kill than your pathetic parents-"

"Shut up."

"Just an 'Avada Kedavra', and then your glassy green eyes would be as lifeless as your whorish mother's-"

"My mother," Harry spat over her, "is the reason Voldemort spent seven years living as _nothing_. She loved me enough to die for me, and although I'm well aware you have no understanding _whatsoever _of what that means, your father may have at least some little idea as to how powerful that magic is. It tore him apart, and burned his body into _ash, _after all." His voice was hoarse, and his hands shook as he said, "Voldemort hasn't won this war yet solely because of _he__r_, so don't you dare call her weak, because she was stronger than he will ever be."

"The strong don't die," Ginny hissed.

"No," said Harry. "The strong are those who are brave enough to die." He took an unsteady breath and softly, lowly said, "If you were a defenseless child and someone too powerful to beat attempted to kill you, would your father have fought, or would he have ran and saved himself?"

Ginny didn't answer.

"Which sounds braver, do you think? Which would a strong person do?"

"A strong person would not let a weakness distract him from his goals," replied Ginny tonelessly.

"So that's all you are? Not a daughter, not a person, but a _weakness_? Is that why you try so hard to be the perfect Death Eater? Because you know that, no matter what he says, you're more a burden to him than a help, and that he'd be better off with you _dead, _and you need to give him some reason to keep you around-"

"GET OUT!"

Harry shut his mouth and looked at her for a long moment, chest heaving with emotion, wanting to glow in the triumph of so clearly hurting her like she'd hurt him. He couldn't, though. He saw her hands trembling and her entire body quaking with rage, and all that the Gryffindor part of his mind could think was '_Too far'._

She'd hit him where it hurt, but that didn't mean he had to do the same. Not when he was supposed to be the good guy.

_Shit, _thought Harry. He hadn't wanted to cooperate with Dumbledore, had been furious at the older man, but he also hadn't planned on doing the exact opposite of what he'd been told.

"Ginny-"

He was cut off when a stream of fire slammed into the charmed space around the door, surrounding him so completely that he couldn't see outside of it. Heat flooded the space he was standing in, and his heart slammed against his chest as he cringed backwards in surprise.

_That_, he most definitely had not been expecting.

"_I will_ _kill you if you don't leave right now!" _Ginny hissed, the words so filled with murderous intent that was almost scared she'd find some way to do so. If she could make flames like that without a wand... it was doubtful anything was beyond her abilities.

He couldn't leave, though. Not after having made things so much worse than they already were.

"Ginny!" shouted Harry. She still didn't respond, so he raised his wand and harshly said, "Aguamenti!"

Water streamed out of his wand and extinguished the flames, soaking Ginny in the process. Left spluttering and furious, she looked so much like the girl she was that Harry felt something almost like guilt churn heavy in his gut.

He wasn't able to dismiss it as entirely as he would have liked.

"Ginny," said Harry, his voice now low and intense and hoarse with emotion. "Calm down, okay?" He let out a long breath, and forced himself to forge on, Gryffindor pride and personal beliefs aside. "I'm sorry. What I said, though... it's true. I know, everyone here has told me that Voldemort cares for you in his own way, but he'll never put himself in danger to help you. He'll use you, and manipulate you, and hell, sometimes he might even do something nice, but you'll always be a weakness to him, and he won't ever forget that."

"Shut up."

"I'm not trying to be an arse," Harry protested. "It's the honest truth, and you know it. It's awful, too. But Merlin, can't you see that you've got a whole family sitting around _right here _who are all willing to love you like he can't? Not because they want something from you, but because they care for you so much that they're totally _blind _to everything you've done. God, I want you in Azkaban. I don't think you should be here, and neither does Sirius or Moody or half the Order, it doesn't sound like. But you _are_ here because your family risked their necks for you, something Voldemort will never, ever do. So maybe if quit being such a bitch and just accept what they're trying to give, things will start going just a tad bit better for you."

A long, tense silence stretched on for an awkward few seconds. Then, face impassive, Ginny emotionlessly replied, "You're full of shit, Potter."

Harry shook his head.

"Deny it all you want. You'll only keep hurting yourself."

Then, without another word, he turned and left.

Dumbledore was still waiting directly outside the door, and though he didn't give any indication of having overheard anything, he did shoot Harry an odd look when he noticed the blood on his hand. Lips pursed, Harry said, "You might want to go fix Ginny up. She's got a broken nose."

"Harry-"

Harry waved off Dumbledore's disproving words, not wanting to hear what he had to say. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he hadn't let Ginny get the best of him, hadn't been irresponsible, but everything she was saying… he couldn't let her insult his parents like that. And Dumbledore…

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see the older man disappearing into the room, and, despite himself, Harry found her words echoing in his head.

"_He's preparing you like a calf for slaughter."_

"_A chess master doesn't grow attached to their pawns, after all."_

His own worries amplified and distorted. Because he _knew _Dumbledore used him shamelessly, that he counted on Harry to do all his dirty work and kept him in the dark about everything important. Like he was just a pawn, supposed to blindly follow orders and willingly sacrifice himself when told without questioning a thing.

_She's just trying to get into your head, _Harry told himself. _None of it's true._

Harry found that he didn't quite believe himself, but he shoved the notion to the back of his head. No matter if he believed it or not, she shouldn't have been saying it. Punching her in the face was totally justified, and he wasn't going to allow Dumbledore to tell him differently.

That thought settling in his heart with a firm conviction, Harry skulked back up to his room for some time to himself.

He desperately needed it after that conversation.


End file.
